


Faded

by Uzumaki_Rebellion



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alternative Lifestyles, Anal Sex, Bisexual Male Character, Black Character(s), Black Panther - Freeform, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Heterosexual Sex, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Pre-Black Panther (2018), Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:20:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 29,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25890496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uzumaki_Rebellion/pseuds/Uzumaki_Rebellion
Summary: Erik "Killmonger" Stevens takes a gap year from M.I.T. and stays with his former foster family in Oakland while he thinks about dropping out of school. With an ex-boyfriend making overtures to rekindle a situationship of some kind, Erik also has his eyes on a no-nonsense artsy Black Goth girl who wants Erik for herself with no strings attached.Lust, lowriders, and living life to the fullest.The fuckery commences...
Relationships: Bi!Erik Killmonger/ Original Female Character, Bi!Erik Killmonger/Original Male Character
Comments: 16
Kudos: 15





	1. Chanel

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> This is a 2-Parter. Enjoy!

"I see both sides like Chanel  
See on both sides like Chanel

It's really you on my mind  
It's really you on my mind  
It's really you  
It's really you on my mind"

Frank Ocean—"Chanel"

The invitation came to Erik Stevens from out of the blue.

A text on his cell that was part of a group thread chirped to life as he boarded a plane to San Jose from Boston. Erik had planned to spend some quiet relaxation alone in his hotel room prior to the Futurists Conference he was booked to attend, but a note in the text message that came from his former foster brother Royal made him pause and reconsider.

After the murder of his father and the death of his mother, Erik lived in a group home until Royal's family took him in at the age of fourteen. It was the closest he had come to a normal home life since the loss of his parents, and seeing Royal's sincere and eager words had him rescheduling his calendar.

A celebration.

For Royal's father.

An address to an old and dearly remembered community center was shared with a time and date that aligned with Erik's trip. It had been six months since Mr. Anthony had a sudden heart attack and the family was putting together a public celebration of his life. Giving him his roses while he was still alive and such an important pillar to the community. Erik had been grateful that the family opted to postpone any type of public celebration soon after his health crisis. The man who helped raise him had a remarkable recovery. Erik was unable to find a flight out in the middle of the week that was cheap and could get him to Oakland in time before Mr. Anthony—Big Poppa to all the kids-had bypass surgery. Erik had to start a crucial year at M.I.T. strong and really couldn't afford to miss any classes at the beginning of the term. The family was understanding and pushed for him to stay and wait until they could plan a big celebration. That time had come. He had read an email a couple of months back about the date but had forgotten it. Luckily, Royal sent out a text, or else Erik would've missed it.

The flight home was long and full of delays. Grounded for weather in Atlanta, he finally arrived in San Jose ten hours later than he had been scheduled. He checked into his hotel room and slept the whole night through. The next morning, he called Royal.

"Come stay at the house," Royal suggested.

"I have this conference I'm attending and I already paid for my room here."

"How long you here for?"

"The conference is for a week. I was going to pick up Princess and maybe do a road trip down the coast. Look for summer work—"

"Wait, you not staying back East?"

Erik looked at the conference badges he held in his hand as he sat on the hotel bed. As of two days ago, his ex-roommate Collette had thrown him out of their apartment for sleeping with her fiancé. Well, not exactly sleeping with the dude. Having the love of her life go down on Erik while they toked on some good Kush ruined his housing situation. That nigga was no good for her anyway, and Erik caught the wandering eyes vibe the moment he met Salim. Collette kept saying she had doubts about the relationship, and when her man flew in for an end of school year visit, Erik was quite sure the engagement was on the rocks. The quarrelsome couple had a fight, loudly called everything off, and Collette stormed off to stay at a friend's apartment leaving Erik alone with her man.

The situation was pretty mellow with her absence from the apartment, and Erik had no dog in the fight as to whether the couple should get back together or not. Salim was apologetic about the loud arguing and cursing and Erik shrugged it off.

"She'll be back," Erik had said, lighting up a joint he had saved for playing an online game with. The sorrowful expression on Salim's face made Erik offer him a few puffs, that eventually turned into smoking another full joint down to ash.

Lounging on the couch, Salim went down a litany of complaints about Collette that all rang true.

"Why did you stay with her then?" Erik asked.

"We are the perfect match. An over-educated Black couple on the road to the American Dream," Salim said wistfully as the weed made him loquacious and introspective.

"You love her?"

"Love?"

Salim stared at Erik as if he had just heard the word for the first time in his life.

"Yeah, nigga. Love," Erik snapped.

Erik was already faded nicely, his body floaty and warm, and needing sex. He glanced at his cell. It was still early enough to hit a spot. He had a wallet stuffed with condoms. Just one swipe of his phone could have him in a Lyft and at his favorite dive where he could circle the pond for whatever caught his eye or chubbed up his dick.

"I guess I love her—"

"Nah, see, you took too long to say that. She's better off without you."

"You right..."

Salim fell into a mild fit of laughter, the weed settling into him deeper. They chopped it up a bit until Erik grew bored with talking to him.

He flipped on a mounted wall screen tv and they sat and watched a movie together. Salim's thigh brushed against Erik's and stayed there and when Erik looked over at the man thinking he was dozing off, Salim stared at his chest. The light green tank Erik wore was a bit tight from shrinkage in the dryer. The man's eyes glossed down to Erik's crotch where his dick print was visible. Freeballing at home was a given, and Erik moved his thigh away, focusing back on the movie. Salim's leg touched his again, and when Erik looked at the man's face, Salim licked his lips and had his eyes still stuck on Erik's dick.

Interesting.

Erik figured Collette was done with the man, hadn't called to check on him, and Salim sure as shit didn't text or check on her so...

The scene was feeling sketchy, and Erik didn't really plan on seducing his roommate's fiancé...ex-fiancé...but the man's lips were big the way Erik liked, and his mouth looked like it needed a thick dick to ease his sorrow. The weed brought out the worst in him, and he purposely shifted his leg so the full bulge of his manhood was quite evident.

Salim's Adam's Apple bobbed in his neck, and his lips parted. He was a pretty boy with a pretty mouth and Erik needed his dick sucked. Slowly.

"You look like you want something," Erik said softly.

"I don't think she's coming back," Salim said.

Erik decided to give him an out if the man was unsure.

"Call and check on her."

Salim shook his head.

Erik pretended to nonchalantly scratch at the root of his dick. He felt it swelling.

The rational mind that was still left ticking in his head through the haze of THC made Erik think of Collette. She wasn't a friend, just a grad school classmate that needed Erik's money to get her through the year. They got along well enough and socialized occasionally when they each had gatherings at their shared home. She knew he was a hoe that got off on pussy or dick. She also knew he was a reckless hoe that didn't mind messy fuckery. And what he was about to do was messy fuckery.

"You must want this dick then," he finally said.

Salim closed his eyes and his head fell forward like he was ashamed to be so transparent.

Erik ran his hand up and down the erection that was growing against his leg. When his fingertips squeezed his wide glans, Salim let out a groan and his hand moved from his own lap and rested on top of Erik's dick.

Erik sat back, his tank rising up his belly revealing a taut stomach.

"Squeeze that shit, nigga."

Salim did as he was told and gripped around the sweatpants. Erik's dick sat up now. Salim's fingers pulled down on the waistband of Erik's black sweats and released his length. The man's eyes grew wide and his breathing increased.

"You been wanting this pipe since you first saw me, huh?"

"Yeah..."

Salim's eyes were bright and hungry for more.

"Stroke that shit, nigga, yeah...just like that."

Erik shifted his hips and pulled his sweats down to his knees. Widening his legs, he let Salim see the heavy sack that was ready for him if he wanted it. The man's fingers ran down Erik's groin, the clipped grooming he did see there pleasing to Salim's eyes. A firm hand gripped Erik's ready dick and pumped him nice and slow.

Fisting him under the head of his glans, Erik saw a thread of saliva spill from Salim's lips.

"Oh, you wanna taste this dick. Your mouth watering already..."

Erik reached down and slapped the man in his face startling him. Excited eyes looked up.

"You been thinking about my dick all day. I bet you broke up on purpose just so you could taste me, huh?"

Salim's own visible erection pressed hard against his slacks.

Erik slapped him again and the man moaned harder.

"Look at that," Erik demanded.

His hand slid down to his tip and he played with the pre-cum spilling from there and along the sides of his dick.

"Put this dick in your mouth."

Salim didn't have to be told twice and his big lips engulfed the top half of Erik's heavy erection.

"Yeah, suck it...suck that big dick. Damn, boy. You hungry for my shit."

Erik thrust his hips up forcing more girth into Salim's eager hot mouth.

"Choke on that shit, nigga...yeah. Pretty boys always wanna deep throat this wood."

Salim tugged on his own dick, then gagged on Erik's erection when he tried to take him down to the root. Erik's eyes closed tight as he thrust up harder wanting to pack the man's throat so he would gag more.

Pulling his lips away from Erik's dick, Salim unfastened his pants and let them fall with his underwear down to his ankles. He had a fat brown erection that didn't match the length of Erik's, but it did make Erik grow harder looking at it. Nice mushroom cap with a wide slit that was weeping its own pre-cum. Salim jerked himself off and feasted back on Erik's dick, giving him a sloppy toppy with all the slurping he was doing. Erik reached with his left hand and pulled on Salim's thick chestnut brown curls. Erik's lips grew lax and he felt the rippling sensation in his balls as they grew tight.

"You gon' make me buss in your mouth."

Salim's fist jackhammered his own dick as his head bobbed in Erik's lap. Shit was feeling delicious and so wrong. The perfect combination for him.

"You gon' let me nut in your mouth, nigga?"

Salim groaned on his dick and grazed his teeth against his slick length. Erik played with his own left nipple with his right hand and allowed the pebbled flesh to course light tingles across his chest. His high made it feel like waves of color were showering heat all over his upper torso as his fingers pinched both of his nipples to increase the pleasure.

Erik's head fell back and he moaned loud when the tip of Salim's tongue darted in and out of his slit. He yanked on his hair.

"Suck my dick hard!"

Salim's throat worked to please Erik.

"I'm bout to cum," Erik gasped, his toes bunching up as his ass cheeks clenched and unclenched from the build-up.

His cell phone chirped.

A new text.

From Collette.

"Damn, nigga, your bitch is back. She's parking her car," Erik warned.

Salim kept sucking Erik's dick with more gusto. Erik pulled his head up from his lap.

"You hear me? Collette is on her way here—"

"Cum in my mouth."

Salim's desperate breath surprised Erik. He wasn't even tripping and went back to slobbing down Erik's meat.

"She gon' walk in here and see you on my dick—"

Salim groaned so hard. He was getting off on the thought. So was Erik.

"...just gon' let me fuck your mouth and your girl about to see it..."

Salim's mouth went crazy and Erik had both hands on his head now pressing down. The surge hit him and he erupted with a thick and creamy release.

"Cumming hard, nigga!" Erik yelled, "Fuck! I'm cumming all in your mouth!"

Salim swallowed everything and when Erik shouted from the dragging of the man's tongue along his now sensitive glans, Salim's own dick began spurting everywhere, wetting the couch with semen.

Erik jumped up and pulled on his sweats. Dripping with perspiration, he grabbed his cell and moved quickly to his bedroom, shutting the door.

He heard Collette enter the apartment and he wondered if Salim had pulled his own pants up in time.

Erik fingered the conference badges in his hand.

One was for Collette who was originally supposed to come to the conference in three days. He had paid for the badges out of his own pocket and she was going to him later. Two hundred bucks down the drain from his end. Fucking Salim. She had no clue what happened between them, but guilt got to Salim's lame-ass and he confessed everything. Now Erik was homeless.

"I gotta find a place for the summer, Royal—"

"Just stay here with me. Mom and Big Poppa are leaving for Hawaii with her next-door neighbors after the celebration. They'll be gone a whole month. You can figure out what you want to do in a month."

"Serious?"

"Nigga, you Fam. It'll be good to have you back in the hood. And if you bringing Princess out, shit, man you about to show up and show out."

"How is she?"

"Princess? She runs like a dream. I take her for a spin around the neighborhood once a week. Mr. Gilkey starts her up every three days. She's all ready for you."

"I'm going to drive her back with me when I go back...if I go back."

"What are you talkin' about? You quittin' M.I.T.?"

"Thinking about it."

"Why? Is it hard?"

"Nah, it's not hard. It's just...I dunno...I'm not feeling motivated to stay. That's why I need to get away, get home for a minute. Clear my head. Think."

"Whatever's clever playa. I'll see you at the celebration. Don't forget, it's a surprise. So you need to get to the community center at exactly ten-fifteen because we're bringing him in at eleven. We rented the center out until six."

"I'll be there."

"Don't be late."

Relief.

He had a place to rest his head until he could sort out his life. Plus, he had Princess, his purple '65 Pontiac GTO convertible lowrider. A car he bought from a neighbor at sixteen and fixed up over the next six years.

He could spend his summer cruising and letting loose. The bulk of his belongings were back in a storage unit in Boston. He had enough clothes with him in two suitcases to last him for weeks.

He fell back on the bed and closed his eyes. He would enjoy the science conference and look forward to seeing his foster family and old homies at the celebration.

A drama-free summer awaited him.

###

Erik took two steps inside the heavily black and gold decorated community center meeting hall and saw someone he didn't expect to see.

His ex-boyfriend Brent.

Stepping away quickly from the surprised stare coming from the piercing dark brown eyes across the room, Erik made his way to the back where the podium was staged and placed himself behind two tall elderly men. Peeking around the men, Erik observed from a distance that Brent looked...amazing. New tats on his arms visible with the gray short-sleeved shirt he wore. A well-groomed beard and mustache. Brent's dark melanin-rich body must've spent many hours in the gym to be that broad in the chest now.

Brent strained his neck to get a better look at Erik, but staying behind the two tall human trees gave Erik the coverage he needed. His nerves had spiked up with excitement as well as dread. Their break-up had been awful. That was all on Erik.

Scooting further behind the elders, Erik bumped into a table and knocked over a delicate flower arrangement from its glass base.

"Watch it!" A woman hissed under her breath.

"Sorry," Erik said reaching out to try and fix the damage.

The woman who scolded him swatted his hand away and propped the flowers back in place.

"Just leave it," she said.

Erik looked her in the eye and she was just as surprised to see him as he was her.

Layla.

The old next-door neighbor that he grew up with.

Layla with the goofy slightly bowed legs and wild every-which-way-but-loose hair, and the dramatic orthodontic headgear that helped keep her smart mouth in check.

The Layla before him was lightyears away from the old pain in the neck goofball who got on his nerves.

The teeth were perfect now and the hair was still big but strikingly bold in a beautiful way. And those slightly bowed-legs from days of yore were shapely and attached to a body that had blossomed—

"Stop staring, it's rude," she quipped.

He was about to say something smart back to her but the community hall double doors opened and one hundred and thirty people yelled, "Surprise!"

Layla jumped in front of the podium and pointed to a group of African drummers in the corner and a grand opening commenced as Big Poppa walked into the space with a shocked look on his rugged Black face that shined with tears.

Erik snuck a glance at Layla and allowed his eyes to drag up and down her physique. Shit. The years had been damn good to her.

Her eyes settled back his way and they shared a look. She shook her head at him as the obvious realization struck her that he looked so different from the scrappy trouble-maker he used to be. A sexy smirk played out on her lips as the drumming rose to a crescendo and Big Poppa walked around the room hugging everyone. The summer was looking up. She stuck her tongue out at him and he rolled his eyes at her fine ass.

"Long time no see," a deep voice quipped.

Erik turned slightly to his right and saw Brent regarding him with a huge megawatt smile plastered on his face.

So much for a drama-free summer...

###

Brent arrived early at the community center. He remembered how very little parking was available in the lot and wanted to make sure he kept his vintage wintergreen '65 Chevy Impala lowrider off the street.

Turning on his car alarm he recognized a few people entering the center from high school. Checking his cell phone for the time, he saw that he was early, showing up ten minutes before the invitation time. He followed the flow of people into the main room and was stunned to see an old face he never thought he'd encounter again.

Erik Stevens.

Brent felt pressure in his chest suddenly and realized he was holding his breath. Two years and that man could still make Brent pause in his tracks.

He found a table on the west side of the room and stood at an open seat next to a friendly couple with three teen-aged daughters. Glancing over to his left, he caught Erik's eye. To his credit, Erik didn't pretend to not see him.

Loud drumming began to echo throughout the room and Big Poppa, the man everyone came out to celebrate, entered the building to shouts and claps. Noticing there were open spaces next to Erik, Brent walked over to his table.

"Long time no see," he said.

Erik looked startled at first but played it off quickly by giving him a smile that ticked up the slight dimples in his cheeks.

"Aye man, it's been a minute," Erik said.

"More than a minute. You back in Oakland for good?"

"Nah. Just here for a few weeks then it's back to school."

Erik's eyes danced over Brent's and watched the woman at the podium leading the drummers for a moment.

"Just came over to say hello. Looks like they are about to start the presentation," Brent said.

"Yeah, looks like they are."

"Good seeing you."

"You too."

Brent moved back to his original seat and took a long drink from the glass of ice water at his place setting. He thought the interaction went well enough and tried not to wear out his welcome. Erik was always flighty whenever Brent was too clingy while they were a couple, so he thought it best to keep the greeting short and sweet.

The program ran smooth, the woman hosting at the podium-Layla—made sure speeches were kept brief and that the line for the catered Jamaican food kept moving. Brent bumped into Erik again in the food line when he went up for seconds of jerk chicken and plantains.

"C'mon now, you can give me a little bit more jerk sauce for my rice," Erik said.

The young woman serving the rice and peas had a big smile on her face as she stared at Erik. She dug the big spoon she had in her hand around the chicken scooping up the excess sauce for him.

"Thanks, Ma," Erik said.

They both had to wait for a new pan of mixed veggies to come out.

"Food is good," Brent said.

"Yeah, it is. This my third time up."

"I have to be careful. No more chicken after this trip."

Brent patted his stomach.

Erik's eyes trailed up his body, and Brent felt a tingle of excitement.

"Still working out at the kickboxing gym?"

"Sobekick? Yeah. Been doing some powerlifting too. What about you?"

"A little boxing, weight lifting, and I'm trying some Taekwondo."

"You look good."

"Yeah? Thanks. You too."

Brent glanced at the young woman who served the rice and peas. She was staring at the both of them. The mixed vegetables had finally arrived. While they were being served, the woman kept watching them.

"You knock over any more arrangements?"

The event host sauntered close to Erik and playfully punched him in his arm.

"No," Erik said grinning hard.

The host's eyes fluttered over to Brent's.

"Layla, this is Brent...Brent, Layla. I used to live next door to her."

Brent held out his hand and shook Layla's. Her eyes were warm and inviting.

"You are doing a great job hosting this," Brent said.

Layla pushed back a giant halo of black twist out curls that fell past her shoulders. Large round clear glasses sat on a nose pierced with a large silver septum ring. Her make-up was dark and dramatic, way too dramatic for daytime. Her black long-sleeved crop top outlined braless breasts and the silver belly chain she had around her waist had a crystal skeleton head on it. Now it made sense. She was into Goth attire. It actually looked glamorous on her.

"Thank you! I'm actually going to cut you guys in line and get myself a plate. I'm starving."

"Go ahead," Erik said.

Layla skipped past them and had a plate loaded up for her by a server at the end of the table. She returned to them and nibbled on some festival bread.

"Royal said you might be looking for a job," Layla said.

Erik stroked the back of his neck and Brent knew he didn't want this to be known. Erik always did that when he was found out about something. Like the time Brent confronted him about sleeping with one of his male co-workers at the bar he worked at in the evening. Or the female customer Erik boned whose car Brent was detailing at the autobody shop he worked at during the day.

"Maybe. I'm still deciding how long I'll be here—"

"Layla!"

An older woman in an orange and yellow African-print dress walked over carrying a metallic gold balloon in her hand.

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"What are you wearing?"

The older woman's voice sounded accusatory and very judgmental.

"This is my afternoon Vamp couture, Miss May. You don't like it?"

Layla used her free left hand to smooth her body con black skirt.

"Okay, my boots may be too low in the heel, but I'm serving looks, right?"

The older woman shook her head and walked away.

"Guess she didn't like what you were serving?" Erik teased.

"It's my tits," Layla said pointing to her breasts, "these old heads see nipples and they think I'm being a true pagan whore in public. These girls are sitting pretty and I will go braless as much as I want until these hoes sag."

Brent and Erik laughed so loud that the people around them stared.

"So how do you know this fool, Brent?"

Layla's eyes were playful and Erik rolled his eyes.

"I did the paint job on his car a couple of years ago."

"You painted Princess? Excellent work!"

"Should we sit down and get out of people's way?" Erik suggested.

Brent and Layla followed Erik back to his table and Brent was happy that Layla was there to break the ice between him and Erik fully. Talking about the work he did for Erik's car helped gloss over any need to talk about their past relationship.

Layla was funny and cut Erik no slack. Brent enjoyed hearing stories about him as a kid, but it ended too soon when Layla had to return to closing out the event.

"Nice meeting you Brent. See you later acorn head," she said popping Erik in the forehead.

"Ow, girl. Stop playing!"

Brent watched her step to the podium again and then he returned his attention to Erik.

"She's cool."

"Yeah. You two hit it off. She used to annoy the fuck outta me when we were kids. Ole big mouth tattletale with her goofy ass."

They chuckled together.

"You still have your Impala?" Erik asked.

"It's right outside."

"No shit? Lemme go see it."

They walked out together and Brent felt his heart swell with pride when Erik whistled and ran his hand across the hood.

"Damn, man. Shit is pretty as fuck. New paint job...rims...damn."

Erik walked around the lowrider.

"You do the interior over too?" he asked.

"Hop in."

Brent put on some music as they sat inside his ride. Erik admired the craftmanship and loving detailed work he put into upgrading his baby. New pecan leather seats. High-end sound system. New dashboard. Their conversation was easy and Brent felt good about their unexpected reunion.

Brent's cell vibrated and he pulled it from his back pocket.

"Shit," he said.

"What?" Erik asked.

"One of my bartenders called out sick tonight. Saturday nights are the worst when this happens."

"Too bad, I was gonna see if you wanted to hang out later."

Brent held his breath.

"Royal's parents are leaving for a trip and he's having a little house party after he drops them off at the airport. Nothing big. Just people I grew up with. Layla will be there."

"I'm on the clock until midnight."

"We'll be up later than that. Come through. Your number still the same?"

"Yeah."

"I'll text you the address."

Brent tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

He still had his number?

Erik stepped out of the lowrider. He looked at the watch on his arm.

"They'll be wrapping this up in an hour," Erik said.

"I'ma bounce. Gotta get ready for work."

"Okay. Look for my text."

Brent watched Erik stroll back to the building. The same dip in his walk. The same aura of confidence. Regal almost.

"Lord, help me," he whispered before he started up his ride.

###

Ole acorn head really became a man.

Layla's eyes took in Erik's whole vibe as they sat in Royal's house with a small crowd listening to mellow tunes and smoking a lot of high-quality pre-rolled Sativa joints supplied by Erik. They sat close together on a loveseat catching up, and in no time, they were thick as thieves. She was hypnotized by his lips and the way his half-lidded eyes looked so bedroom ready. The more he talked, the more she found herself wondering what he looked like undressed.

"What are you doing now? Finish with school yet?" he asked.

She scratched her left thigh.

"I have another year left at Mills College and I work at an Adult Bookstore—"

"A porn shop."

"An Adult Bookstore...that sells accessories and toys too."

"A porn shop!"

"Shut up! Have some respect."

"I'ma check it out—"

"No! Do not come to my job."

"Too late. Royal already told me where it was."

Erik held up his cell phone and showed her the webpage of her store.

"Royal!"

Layla glared at Royal as chopped it up with one of his besties.

"You told Erik where I worked."

"So?" Royal said polishing off another artisanal beer on the couch.

"Don't worry, I won't act ridiculous. I just want to check it out. I do read," Erik said.

She punched him.

"You love hitting me. You were always punching me."

"Because you were a punk."

"And now?"

"Still a punk."

More people arrived at the house and it became a lot livelier.

Erik passed her a fresh joint. And those dreamy eyes of his had her enraptured.

"School and work have you wrapped up. What do you do for fun?"

"I started a Black Goth Collective."

"No shit?"

"I went through my Emo phase in the twelfth grade and then I just gravitated toward embracing my darker nature and urges. It fits me. I put together art shows around the city and I do a podcast on Black subcultures on campus. I'm trying to put together a photoshoot for this article I just wrote for Coastline magazine that details Oakland's underground scenes. I focus it exclusively on Black shit."

"That's cool."

"I met these Black surfers a few weeks ago and got some great stories for my article. I just need to put it all together, and...shit, Erik...you should let me interview you about lowriders. You're from here."

"I'm down. Just let me know when."

"It won't take long, I promise. Oh!"

Her eyes grew big.

"What?"

"Would you be open to letting me and some other Black goths and surfers take pictures with your car? You'd be in it too! It can be a visual profusion of Black Cool."

She spread her hands out in a pronounced fashion to make her point.

"Whatever you need," he said.

Those dam lips of his had her leaning in closer to him. He seemed to have moved closer to her too. Their thighs touched.

"What?" he said blowing smoke away from her face.

"It's been real cool chilling with you all day."

"Same here."

Her cell vibrated in her purse. She pulled it out and turned off her alarm.

"I need to head home. Work tomorrow. Inventory early in the morning."

"It's not even late. I've got some blended shit in the back we can smoke."

"Shit Erik, I'm way too high now."

"I'm tryna get you faded like me, girl."

"Next time."

She didn't want to go. But she had responsibilities.

"I'll come by your job tomorrow."

She smiled. She wanted to see him again.

"Come in after two. I get off three."

"You can show me the good stuff," he said.

The good stuff is in my bed.

His eyes seemed to get tight and for a second, she thought she had spoken out loud.

"See you tomorrow," she said standing up.

"I'll walk you home."

"How chivalrous. How will I ever make it next door all by myself? Stay here and have fun with Royal."

She pushed him back down on the couch and said goodbye to the pockets of people spread throughout the room.

Stepping outside, Layla allowed a bit of girlish giddiness to settle in her stomach. That knucklehead that tormented her and made fun of her braces had her nose open.

Popping microwave popcorn in her pajamas, she settled on her bed and enjoyed the solitude of her parent's home without her parents in it. It was also nice to be in a space alone and not surrounded by roommates at her own apartment.

An hour passed, and then another and she could still hear the faint sounds of music from next door. Sitting up on her old bed, she felt a little silly. How many nights had she partied into the wee hours and shown up to work with less than an hour of sleep?

Erik just looked too delish to leave over there. They were vibing so well together and he was clearly feeling her. He didn't want her to go. Even offered to take her to his guest room for a more private smoke out.

She threw on some fresh clothes and brushed her teeth.

Wandering back into Royal's household, the party had about fifteen people left enjoying the music and atmosphere in the living room. Her eyes darted around for Erik.

"You're back!" Royal said giving her a hug and handing her a glass of red wine.

She sipped and it was good.

"Parents are gone, so I'm breaking out their good shit," Royal said.

The music on the family stereo switched to some deep house and a girl bumped into Layla causing her to spill wine on the carpet.

"Shit!" Layla shouted.

"I am so sorry!" The girl said with drunken eyes and slurred words.

"No worries," Layla said heading to the laundry room for carpet stain remover. She had been in that house enough times and spilled just as much crap on the floor to know exactly where to get cleaning supplies.

Stalking toward the back of the house she opened the laundry room door, flipped on a light, and grabbed a sponge and some foam spray.

Her eyes adjusted to darkness again as she turned off the lights and stepped back into the hall passing a bathroom.

"Fuck!"

Erik's voice had a sexy moan behind the curse, and Layla stopped in her tracks. The odor of weed wafted around her and Layla followed the trail down another turn in the hall that brought her to a partially open door. A standing mirror caught her eyes with a low voltage bedroom lamplight. The reflection she saw made her catch her breath.

A man was bent over with his pants around his ankles holding onto an old dresser. Erik stood behind him with his pants down to his knees. His thick dick was sheathed in a condom and pumping in and out of the man's ass. Erik's hands gripped the man's hips and Layla felt gooseflesh prick her arms as the groans from his mouth made her shiver.

"Oh shit...Erik !" the male voice groaned.

Erik's partner turned his head and Layla recognized the gorgeous lush beard and handsome face.

Brent.

The guy from Big Poppa's celebration.

Both men were topless and their back muscles rippled and flexed with their movement. Erik's ass cheeks clenched and Layla's eyes could not stop looking at his erection fucking Brent so good. Big balls hanging like rich fruit slapping against Brent's ass, Erik gritted his teeth.

"Nigga, I'ma cum...damn boy...damn...."

Brent grabbed his own dick and fisted it while Erik pounded him by going real deep.

"Ah, nigga, I'm dumping!" Erik shouted.

Erik pulled out halfway and rocked back on his heels. He held still and a loud moan escaped his full lips. Layla watched his dick pulse as it pumped cum into the condom. Even his balls contracted rhythmically as every ounce of semen squeezed out from his heavy sack.

"Damn...damn..." Erik sighed.

He pulled out of Brent and peeled off the condom, tossing it tied on the dresser. Brent stood up and faced Erik, his hand still pumping his dark fat dick in his hand. Erik grabbed his still erect length and held it close to Brent's dick.

"Wet this wood boy," Erik demanded and Brent groaned, his hand moving faster on his shaft.

"Yeah...yeah," Brent huffed,

Erik widened his stance and Brent's eyes squeezed shut.

"Fuck Erik..."

"Nut on this dick, nigga..."

"Yeah! Ohhhh! I'm wetting that dick up."

Brent's head fell forward and he jerked off faster until ropes of cum shot out all over Erik's dick as he cried out his pleasure.

The two men laughed together with unsteady legs. Brent stepped closer to Erik and kissed him with the softest-looking mouth. Erik tongued Brent with slow twirls and licks upon his lips and the gentle intimacy embarrassed Layla. She felt like a sneaky criminal watching them and moved back into the shadows of the hall and made her way back to the living room.

"Here's the cleaner," Layla said.

"We're good," Royal said.

He was down on his knees sprinkling coarse salt onto the carpet. Layla could see the red wine being absorbed and changing the salt from white to dark pink.

"I'll just leave this here in case you still want to use it," she said.

She grabbed a seat on the couch and finished up the rest of the wine that was still left in her glass on the coffee table. Images of Erik and Brent ran through her mind. Especially Erik's big dick cumming so hard. His dick moving like that as he ejaculated had her turned on. Her clit felt fat in her panties. Thoughts of Brent shooting creamy white semen all over Erik's dark brown erection made her eyes water with desire.

She sat back on the couch.

Erik was gay.

She racked her brain searching for clues as to how she missed that in their shared past. Royal was gay. Everyone knew that by the time he was in junior high and Erik had been Royal's protector when they went to school or got harassed by the neighborhood bullies. But Erik had shown no...what? Tendencies? Layla scolded herself internally for thinking in the stereotypes that she hated growing up. There were all types of gay people, and just because Erik hadn't displayed open attraction to boys when they were children didn't mean that he was less gay. Maybe he hid it like so many people did. It made sense especially back in the day when homophobia ran rampant among hood boys they knew. Perhaps he saw how Royal had been treated and didn't want to be harassed either. Who knew he was fighting all those bullies on his own behalf as well as for Royal?

"You came back."

Erik plopped down next to her on the couch. Brent sat on a side chair adjacent to the couch. Layla avoided eye contact and finished her wine.

"I figured you were right. It's early and I'm not tired."

She kept her face focused on other people. She bobbed her head like the music had her in its grip. Erik's thigh bumped into hers and she sat away from him. He leaned back and watched the scene with her. Placing her empty wine glass on the coffee table she glanced over at Brent and he looked uncomfortable. Uneasy. Erik, on the other hand, was relaxed and wide open with his energy. She looked away and pulled out her cell to give herself something to do.

"You cool?" Erik asked.

"Yeah," she said pretending to check a text.

"Erik, come over here and take a picture with us," Royal said.

Layla watched Erik join a jovial group photo and then her eyes drifted over to Brent again. The man seemed to stare at Erik with bated breath. She saw a hunger there and she felt a twinge of jealousy in her belly. The desire she had for Erik was wasted energy and it sucked. It had been a long time since she had been attracted to anyone, and that heady rush of hormones bubbling through her had nowhere to go. Feeling thwarted, she stood up.

"Goodnight," she said to Brent.

"Night," he said wistfully, his eyes still stuck on Erik.

"Bouncing again, shorty?" Erik said.

"Yeah. This scene is dying down, so I'ma go sleep."

"See you tomorrow then."

"Later."

Back in her bed, Layla stuffed her hair under a large black silk bonnet. Pulling off her pajama bottoms, she grabbed her wand vibrator and reclined on her bed. Spreading her legs, she brushed the round bulb of the vibrator on her pink cotton panties and closed her eyes.

She gasped when the low vibration hit her swollen bud. Her panties were sticky already and she rubbed up and down her vulva until she could feel herself becoming more wet, soaking the cotton more. Pulling aside her panties she tapped the vibrator on her inner lips and she soaked the bulb.

Soft pants fell from her lips.

The firmness off Erik's ass.

His pants hanging barely above his knees.

Thighs taut.

The shaky timbre in his voice when he came inside Brent.

The groans that fell out of Brent's mouth as he begged for more dick.

Layla moaned out loud, free from the need to keep quiet in a quiet house.

The way that man's thick dick just kept pulsing and pumping cum.

"Ah! Fuck me...fuck me..." she gasped smacking the vibrator against her clit, "dump that cum in my pussy!"

She peed a little as she tapped under her clit.

His fat dick was just so juicy looking.

"Oh, Gawd...!"

Her orgasm rippled under the vibrator and she saw her folds twitch from the intense release. Thighs clamping around her hand, Layla fell back on the bed sweaty and wanting more.

It was a long miserable night.

###

Your Secret Delight was more than an Adult Bookstore.

It was a fancy boutique that catered to all manner of pleasure, kinks, and toys.

Erik walked around the store and was struck by how high end and fancy everything was. He had memories of sleazy shops with peep show videos hidden in back rooms when he was in high school trying to sneak into those types of shops. This was a whole new level. High-Class Smut.

Layla was behind a counter chatting with a white co-worker.

Draped in black clothing again, a skintight jumpsuit with small steel-colored chains wrapped around her chest and her big hair tied in a giant afro-puff, Layla gave him a soft smile when she saw him.

"Hey," she said.

"'sup?"

"Ann, this is my friend Erik," Layla said turning to her co-worker.

Ann waved at Erik and her eyes stayed on him for a beat longer than necessary before she left them alone at the front.

"Ready for a tour?" she asked.

He followed her around and he learned more about lubes, toys, fuck dolls, bondage and fetish tools, condoms, dental dams, latex, sex machines to fuck people silly, supplements, bath accessories, DVDs, communities for sex partners and sex shows and all manner of sexuality he hadn't explored or been exposed to before. The boutique not only did well as a brick and mortar building, but they also did a brisk online business.

Layla was a thorough guide, but he noticed something was different about her interaction with him. She was more subdued. Less playful and touchy-feely with him. When he made smart ass comments about some whips and anal plugs, she didn't smack him like she usually would. She acted a little more restrained. He chalked it up to her being at work, but still, there was something a bit off with her.

She smelled enticing and she showed him fragrances that smelled just as good.

"This is what I am wearing," she said spritzing him with a fancy crystal perfume bottle. He sniffed the air, then moved close to her to smell her skin. His nose grazed against her neck and she grew stiff next to him.

"It smells better on your skin."

"Chemicals and shit. Y'know, different interactions with different skin," she said stepping back.

She relaxed when she showed him edible gifts made of chocolate and fruit, and by the time she was officially off the clock, things seemed normal between them once more.

"Layla, new review box."

The assistant manager, an Asian woman with sultry eyes handed Layla a box of goods.

"Thanks, Bree,"

"We'll need to find a new reviewer for Colin. He's too busy to do it for us anymore," Bree said brushing back her long pigtail.

Layla's eyes grew big and grin spread across her face.

"Erik, how would you like to try products and write reviews for us?" she asked.

Bree's eyes brightened up and her gaze was a little lascivious when she looked him over.

"Product reviews?"

"You try new products that we receive from companies who want to do business with us. Then you write up a full-page review of the item and we post it in the store and on our website."

"I pay well," Bree said, "and we need a male reviewer like right now. I have a ton of products that Colin hasn't even gone through yet. And now he's leaving me high and dry. Can you write well?"

"Yes. How much you talkin'?"

"Fifteen dollars per review."

"What if I don't like the products?"

"Then you write about why you didn't like it. You are paid for your honesty. Bonus, if you like the stuff, you get to keep it."

"Sold!"

"Great! Be right back!"

Bree hustled to the backroom and Layla gave him an impressive look.

"Usually she wants writing samples. I hope you are good," she said.

"I go to M.I.T. I write fifty-page papers on bioweaponry and hoplology. I can easily write about the benefits of using apple-flavored lube instead of strawberry flavored lube."

"What the fuck is hoplology?"

"Google it, Ma," he said.

Bree swooped back in with a box and two large bags of product.

"This should keep you busy. Layla can give you the passcode for the website to upload your reviews to her." "I edit them and approve them," Layla said with a proud smirk on her face.

"You don't have to use your real name. Just make up an alias. You're compensated through PayPal. Do you have a passport?"

"Yeah?"

"On you right now?"

"Yeah."

"Perfect, let's fill out an application and some tax forms and you'll be all set."

Erik followed the woman to the back room where her office was next to the stockroom. In less than an hour, Erik had a job.

He drove Layla home so she didn't have to ride the BART with the big box. They sat in her parent's living room going through the goods. Mainly lotions, lubes, and DVDs on sex magic and tantric lovemaking.

"I can knock this shit out in a few hours and make one hundred and fifty dollars. Doing nothing really," he said looking over his bounty.

"And you get to keep it," she reminded him.

He picked up a small box of blue glow in the dark condoms.

"Why do people want their shit to glow?" he asked.

Her eyes glanced at the condoms and looked away quickly.

"Let's do your interview tomorrow if you have some time. I have the day off," she said.

"Bet. Hey, if you want, I can ask Brent if he'd be interested in talking to you. He's heavy into the lowrider scene too, and he refurbishes vintage cars and does a lot of the detailing for major lowrider clubs in Oakland."

She nodded her head.

"That would be cool. Send me his number. We could put him in the photo too." "Yeah? Cool."

Erik pulled out his phone and texted her the number.

When he looked at her face, Layla had a quizzical expression there.

"What?" he asked.

"Are you and—"

"Hold on a minute," he said when his cell vibrated in his hand.

He took the call from Royal. Ten minutes later he was done and Layla was putting her store goods away.

"What do you want to get into? Wait, what were you asking me before I took the call?"

"Nothing. It was nothing. You want to order some pizza?"

"Coolio. We can eat and watch the game," he said.

She turned on a flat screen and called for the pizza. Erik pulled out some cash and handed it to her.

"On me."

"Where you going?"

"I'ma pick up some beer—"

"Get me limeritas."

The rest of their afternoon together was stuffing their faces with sausage and extra cheese pizzas with libations. He liked being with her. Wanted to get closer to her but kept feeling barriers. It wasn't anything mean, but he felt she wasn't feeling him like that.

He settled into the evening and when the basketball game was over and their bellies were full, he bid her a good night.

"You should keep wearing that perfume. I think that's your signature scent," he said.

There was a twinkle in her eye and she punched him in his shoulder.

He took a drive twenty minutes away and knocked on an apartment door inside a luxury complex.

Brent answered.

His abode smelled of home cooking and the sound of lights out jazz playing in the background. Erik smiled. This nigga was born in the wrong time period. Erik used to tease him and say he would fit in the Harlem Renaissance. Stepping further into the apartment he remembered all the details of it. He'd lived there for a short stint. Brent still had artwork that Erik bought two years ago on the wall.

Brent sniffed the air.

"Are you wearing perfume?"

"Nah. I was with Layla at her job earlier. She sprayed some stuff on my shirt when she was showing me around."

"Oh."

"She's got a cool spot there. They make a ton of money peddling smut. She likes it. I got a job there now."

"You? At a porn shop?

"An Adult Boutique. I'm going to be writing product reviews. Easy as fuck."

Erik pulled out a glow in the dark condom from his pocket and showed it to Brent.

"If you be a good boy, I'll try this out on you."

Brent licked his lips and gave Erik a sly smile.

The man was fine. No doubt. The type of fine Erik was weak for. Perfect face, thick dark eyebrows, and matching dark eyes. Beard glossy and carefully trimmed. Brent had a muscular body that was catered to, but not worked out for show. The hard, round shape of his ass, and the tight abs could make Erik stay on edge. The man was the whole package in terms of the physical. A great personality rounded it off making him a whole filling snack...nah, a full course meal. It was just the emotional parts of Brent that made Erik jumpy.

He thought at one time that he loved this man, professed it once in a drunken stupor when he cheated on him for the umpteenth time. Brent would anger him by being so quick to take him back, blaming Erik's childhood trauma for him not trusting anyone enough to love him back. Brent even suggested couples therapy and that drew the line for Erik. He was doing too much. Pushing Erik to do things he didn't want to do, especially for someone he didn't think he would be with for the rest of his life. Erik thought he cheated on Brent often because he wanted to hurt him, make him finally throw their relationship away permanently. Humiliating him only made Brent push up on Erik more. He was the ultimate Captain save a hoe.

Erik had to admit that he could've walked away from him a long time ago, but something always brought him back, and their last break-up before the final break up was all about Erik professing love, and Brent taking his ass back again. They were toxic. Always had been. Also, co-dependent. They tried just being friends but that never worked. The need to fuck one another's brains out always ruined the friendship forcing them to limp back into a disrespectful union. Whenever Erik spiraled into self-pity, drowning his sorrows in liquor and sometimes pills, Brent would pick him up and dust him off. The spirals always happened when he had memories of his father. Finding him dead. Finding that no one believed him when he told them that his Baba was murdered by the Black Panther. He tried to show the police back then his father's journals, but everything was written in Wakandan. His own mother didn't believe him and always questioned the veracity of his claims.

"Your Daddy was just a thug, baby. He sold guns and smoked all day. He got into some mess he couldn't handle. The streets eat people up."

A year later, the streets ate her up and he was an orphan. An orphan who no one believed when he spoke of Baba's home. Wakanda sounded like a made-up fantasy and he learned to shut up about it. It was probably some fake ass shit his Dad told him to entertain him while he and Uncle James sold guns in their apartment. That's all Baba did. Run guns and stare up at the night sky all the time. Like he was waiting for something.

"It's your Dad you're mad at Erik," Brent would say, "but you take it out on yourself."

Erik would stare at his lover with surly eyes.

"Why would I be mad at my father? He loved me."

"But he did bad shit and it cost him his life."

Erik would lose his shit then, every single time.

"Stop talking like you know me...like you know me on some deep level. You're blaming my father for his own death and I keep telling you fuckers that he was killed by—"

He'd stop himself. The Black Panther wasn't real. It was just his uncle punishing his father for being that nigga. Family shit that Erik was going to handle once he got his mind right.

The cycle between him and Brent would continue. Fighting and fucking. Fucking and fighting. Wanting Brent to leave him so bad that it cut him deep in his soul. Wetting his dick in other holes male or female who would open their legs for him so that he could hide himself and all that unwanted pain. It always worked. For a little bit. That is until he ran back to Brent trying to start new all over again.

Maybe he wanted someone to want him unconditionally. Love him unconditionally. No matter how horrible he was on those bad days. Those self-medicating days. Those faded days of forgetful bliss.

Erik couldn't take it anymore back then, and when he was accepted into M.I.T. grad school after finishing Berkley, he bounced. Left Brent with just a text message saying it would never work. Erik was who he was, and Brent was who he was. Oil and water out of bed, match to paper in the bedroom: fire.

Maybe he would finally hate Erik enough to let him go forever.

Staring at him now, seeing those lips that could suck dick to make his toes curl, seeing that body that could make him want to rut over his back all night...it was a damn addiction of the worst kind. He couldn't shake this nigga. They sat in Royal's party together for less than two hours before he was discreetly taking Brent back to his borrowed guest room to fuck him and listen to the man beg for his dick like he used to. He just wanted that old thang back and the shit was still fire.

Brent served him meatloaf with brown gravy and garlic mashed potatoes. They drank wine and sat on his couch to catch up on life. Erik found that the Cabernet Sauvignon and weed made him confessional and soft and he asked Brent to forgive him for running off on him. As always, Brent forgave him, and that old anger flared up in the pit of Erik's stomach.

"I wish you would just cuss me out. I fucking left you without saying a word. I packed my shit up and you came home to an empty apartment. You should be livid...you should want to kick my ass. I would kick my ass."

"You were in a bad place, Erik. What could I do? Grad school and getting out of Oakland was probably what you needed."

"You so stupid," Erik slurred, pushing Brent in his chest.

Brent hung his head down for a moment and clasped his hands together.

"Just stupid in love, Erik. Ain't no shame in loving someone fiercely...even when they are problematic."

"I treated you like shit—"

"Erik. Just let it go—"

"Nah, let me get this off my chest. You deserve a better person. You deserve love...and devotion...nigga, you deserve all the things my lame ass can't give you. I don't even love myself. How can I make you happy? How can I make anybody happy?"

Erik glanced around the apartment.

"Nice home. Good food. Excellent Music. Great company. You serve up heaven to a man like me who is unworthy. Stop putting yourself out like this for so little in return...nah, don't touch me..."

Brent stroked his face and Erik pushed his hand away.

"Don't..." he begged, but Brent cradled his face in his hands forcing him to look in his eyes.

"You deserve better too. I often ignored what you were trying to tell me. I even forced myself on you even when you desperately wanted to be left alone. I crossed boundaries with you on many occasions because I thought I knew what was best. I was wrong for that. I was like D.W. in that old Arthur cartoon, you know 'That sign can't stop me because I can't read'."

Erik laughed.

Brent pressed his forehead into his. Erik could feel his own heartbeat in his ears and the perfume that Layla sprayed on him made his stomach queasy.

"I won't put any pressure on you, Erik. I have a lot on my plate with work and trying to open my own detailing shop. I've been alone for a minute and I just want to enjoy your company. That's all. I promise that's all."

Erik pulled back.

"I'm cool with chilling. I just...I don't want you making plans. I don't know how long I'm going to stay here—"

"Understood."

Brent stood up.

"I have some of my Mom's sweet potato pie in the fridge..."

"Ah shit, Mom Dukes's famous sweet potato pie with the cinnamon crust?"

"The one and only."

"Nigga, you was over here plottin'."

Brent went into his kitchen and Erik followed him. They ate pie and talked and Erik felt like a new page had turned in their story.

It was hot in the apartment and Brent hated running his air conditioning for a long time because it bothered his sinuses so they went for a ride in his car. Rolling through the neighborhood with the windows down and thunderous beats vibrating the interior from the satellite radio, Erik let his right hand hang out of the window to touch the rushing of air. They talked and joked and vibed off the music.

When it grew cooler, they returned to the apartment to watch a streaming movie and eat more pie. Erik enjoyed his time there and when he began yawning, he stood up from the couch and grabbed his phone from an end table.

"Thanks for tonight," Erik said.

Brent walked him to the door and there was an awkward sweetness on the man's face.

"It was like old times. I enjoyed it too. Take care."

Erik walked out of the apartment and strolled down the hall toward the elevator. He felt relaxed. Calm.

The elevator doors opened and Erik pivoted away from it and walked back to Brent's apartment.

"You forget something?" Brent asked when he opened the door.

"Nah."

"Is something wro—"

Erik slammed his lips onto Brent's. He stepped forward pushing Brent back into the living room.

"Erik—"

"Shut up."

Pulling off his shirt and tossing it on the couch, Erik began unbuttoning Brent's thin yellow button up. Walking him backward into his bedroom, Erik unfastened his jeans and kicked off his shoes. Brent did the same.

Tumbling naked on the bed together, the hunger in Erik's mouth wouldn't let Brent's mouth go. When Brent came up for air, Erik ran his tongue down his chest, licking each of his nipples as his fingers ran down to fondle his balls. Brent's beard tickled Erik's neck as he sucked on the skin. He pulled back and rested his left hand on Erik's left pec gently rubbing on it.

"Still so beautiful," Brent sighed.

Raining kisses down Erik's chest and waist, he engulfed the swelling between his legs in his mouth and Erik gasped. He watched Brent's head bob up and down.

"Shit. Suck that shit...fuck, Brent."

The man was sucking the soul out of his dick, those plush lips curled around the tip, his tongue coating the underside of his glans with saliva.

"Don't forget my balls," Erik whispered and Brent squeezed his nuts before peppering his sack with kisses. Once he was juggling his balls in his mouth, Erik closed his eyes and arched his back to make sure Brent took all of him.

"Hand me my pants," Erik said.

Brent released Erik's balls and leaned over the side of the bed.

"Here," he said.

Erik pulled the boutique condoms out of his jean pocket. Unwrapping the blue glow in the dark condom carefully, he rolled it down on his erection.

"That is wild," Brent said.

Erik's dick bobbed against his stomach with a neon blue glow.

"C'mere," Erik said.

Brent moved closer to Erik and they kissed again.

Erik stroked Brent's chest then stroked his dick until it was standing at very hard attention. Pre-cum spilled from Brent's tip and Erik quirked his lips as he fingered the head, spreading the natural lubricant up and down the sides.

"I wanna fuck you so bad," Erik said.

Brent crashed his lips on Erik's and their tongues danced. He stroked Brent's beard, slipping a finger into his mouth forcing the man to suck it hard.

"Turn around," Erik commanded.

Brent rolled to his side and Erik rubbed on his ass before lining his dick up against his opening. He pushed in the tip of his dick and stared down at the lubricated condom so bright against the rich melanin of Brent's skin. Erik ran his hand up and down Brent's back and the man poked his ass out and lifted his leg at a slight angle.

"Take this dick, boy...fuck. Just like that..." Erik moaned.

Brent's ass was nice and tight as it received Erik's thrusts. Reaching around his waist, Erik stroked Brent's dick, beating that fat meat in the same rhythm as he fucked the man's ass. Brent's breathy pants excited Erik.

"Damn boy, throw that shit back on me," Erik shouted.

Brent kept up Erik's pace eventually forcing Erik to grip his neck and pull his head back so he could kiss him as he fucked that perfectly curved ass. Brent's dick kept spilling out more pre-cum making Erik's hand slippery as he fisted him faster.

"Slow down, you'll make me nut too soon," Brent panted, pushing his right hand onto Erik's stomach.

Erik winded his hips and ignored Brent's request. Shit was feeling too good.

"Fuck, Erik! I don't want to cum yet!"

Erik beat that meat with his hand bringing Brent to the edge before leaving him gasping when he suddenly switched his pace. His fingers sat at the root of Brent's dick and twisted it slowly with his thumb and index finger. Allowing the man to catch his breath, Erik pulled out of his ass returning his lips to Brent's needy mouth. He choked the man's throat and slid his fingers under Brent's frenulum, twisting the girth and bringing him back to the precipice once more.

Erik plunged back into Brent's tight heat giving him slow shallow thrusts. His exhales grew stronger and louder and he sank in deeper until his balls were pressed against Brent's sweaty body.

"Oh shit....ooh fuck...nigga you got my balls tight...'bout to cum...."

Erik's shouts grew louder and he leaned back pushing his cheek against the pillow near his face. When he felt the throbbing build up in his scrotum and his sphincter tightened, Erik pulled Brent into a tight embrace.

"Baby," Erik gasped.

His length swelled and he spilled into the condom with intense spurts that made him bite his own lip.

"Shit!" Brent shouted.

Brent's dick erupted like a creamy white lava flow all over Erik's hand. When his body stopped shaking in Erik's arms, he buried his face against the bed cover.

"My neighbors are going to complain," Brent gasped.

"Fuck 'em," Erik said running his fingers in small circles on Brent's chest.

He pressed his cheek against Brent's cheek and just quietly held him. His heart thrummed in his chest. Brent held onto Erik's arm and the peaceful solitude lulled Erik into closing his eyes. He felt his penis grow flaccid and he leaned back to remove the condom without spilling anything. He rolled over off the bed and padded over to the bathroom and threw the used condom away.

He took a moment to urinate and wash his hands and when he stared at himself in the mirror, his face looked relaxed. Taking a deep breath, he returned to the bedroom and found Brent wiping up his semen from the bed with tissue from his nightstand. He balled it up and threw it into a wastebasket near his dresser.

Pulling the covers back on his bed, Brent invited Erik to crawl underneath.

"I'ma head back over to Royal's," Erik said.

Brent froze. His face took on a look of disappointment before he switched up his expression to try and look cool with what Erik said.

"Alright..."

"I'll hit you up later this week. I'ma start doing these reviews and shit. Before I forget, Layla, the sista I introduced you to...she's going to hit you up about doing an interview you about lowrider culture. She's talking to me tomorrow. She wants to do a photoshoot too. With Princess."

"That sounds cool. I'll look out for her call."

Erik pulled on his clothes and he paid careful attention to Brent's body language.

"I can see myself out," Erik said.

Brent climbed off the bed and walked over to Erik with an easy gait. His skin glistened with a healthy sheen of perspiration and the glow of good loving. Erik kissed him on the lips, slipping him a little tongue with hints of future pleasure.

"Night," Erik said.

"Night."

Erik left with a bounce in his step.

###

"Ain't nothing sweet but the swisher," Layla said to Erik as she directed the photographer of her magazine shoot to center Erik's car in the shot.

Erik leaned his arm out of the driver's window of Princess and Layla had to take a moment to admire how beautiful his purple lowrider was. He played with the hydraulics on it until the front side facing the camera was lifted higher than the other side. Louis and Dee Dee, the two Black surfers she interviewed, along with Pam and Marshall from her own Black Goth crew, stood around the car looking like sophisticated models.

"Louis, let your surfboard lean closer to your side like Dee Dee's board...good. Pam, stick your hip out more so we can see Marshall's belt. Thank you. Erik, take the sunglasses off. We want to see your eyes."

Tina, the photographer nudged Layla in the arm.

"You need to get in the photo too, you look amazing," Tina said.

"There's no room, I don't want to block Erik—"

"Get on the hood," Erik said.

"I don't want to put a dent in your car."

"Girl, this is hard metal. Your ass that heavy to dent metal?"

"You may want to protect your investment."

"Hmmm, lemme see what it do then. Climb on top."

All the models had grins on their faces and her girl Pam gave her a sly look. Tina nudged her again and Layla sashayed over to the hood. Everyone stepped back from the car and Erik lowered the wheel and she slid on top of it.

"Hold on," Erik warned.

She rolled her eyes and he shifted the gears in his car and made the lowrider bounce causing Layla's body to bounce with it. She giggled and Erik made it bounce a little harder and she actually flew up.

"Beautiful!" Tina shouted.

Layla wagged a finger at Erik and he winked his eye at her.

"I took a few shots and they look amazing. Stay right there Layla. Everyone else, back to your original poses please."

Tina moved back and forth getting different angles and close-ups. She had them break into individual shots until finishing up with a few shots of just Erik and her.

"Step out from the car Erik and play with Layla, turn your music up," Tina directed.

Erik turned up the volume to a classic, "More Bounce to the Ounce" and he played around with Layla in silly and serious poses. In the last picture of them together, Tina made them pretend to kiss. Erik was leaning against the hood and Layla was on top of the hood on her knees. Leaning forward, Layla rested her lips on Erik's. The warm softness of his mouth melted her insides, even though it was a fake kiss.

"Hold it," Tina said.

Layla pulled back quickly and looked away from Erik's creamy brown eyes.

"I need one more," Tina said.

Erik turned back to her and Layla leaned forward again. This time, Erik placed a finger on her chin and when they kissed, it lasted a long time.

"Okay, good! Thanks!"

Layla jumped off the hood and went to go look at Tina's camera. The pictures did look amazing.

"I'm going to get some shots of Louis and Dee Dee in the water. Thanks, folks!"

The surfers followed Tina and Layla spoke to her friends for a moment before they took off, leaving her alone with Erik.

"You want to grab a bite to eat?" Erik asked.

"I have to stay until Tina is done."

"I can hang out," he said.

He did. Cracking jokes with her. They sat in his car listening to music and making plans for her little cocktail party. Her birthday was that Friday and she planned a lovely soiree with her Goth friends. She invited Erik so he could see what it was like to hang with the cool kids.

Tina finished before the sun went down, and Erik went cruising with Layla. They smoked a bit, grabbed some burritos, smoked some more, and then went back to her house. When they stepped out of Erik's car in her parent's driveway, Mrs. Lykes, a neighbor from down the street came strolling by walking her rat terrier.

"Layla!"

"Hi Mrs. Lykes," Layla said.

"Hey Mrs. Lykes," Erik said.

The woman did a double-take.

"Erik?"

"Yeah."

The shock on her face was followed by an elevator stare as her eyes looked him up and down.

"Where have you been?"

"Back East. I go to M.I.T."

"He's in Grad school," Layla said.

Mrs. Lykes didn't look happy about that.

"Grad school. Well, that is quite a surprise. Good for you. You used to be so bad. I see you turned your life around young man."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I remember when them boys shot at you and Tootie when y'all were fifteen. You ever hear from Tootie anymore?"

"No, Ma'am."

Layla could tell Erik was getting irritated. She pulled on Erik's arm.

"We're going to do some work now, Mrs. Lykes," she said.

"Good seeing you, Erik. Stay out of trouble. M.I.T. is one of those fancy schools. Can't be having people shooting at you out there."

Ouch.

"People still talk about that shit around here?" Erik asked.

"Sometimes. But Tootie is in jail and his family moved away three years ago."

He followed her into her house.

It was a fun evening with Erik and she edited his reviews, posting them online and forwarding his payment to him. She gave him another box and bag of goodies to review, and when he left her house, she had to concede that she had a horrible crush on him.

It was maddening to like Erik in that way. They had good chemistry together and she felt weird inviting him to brunches, museum trips, and taking him around her friends when they all thought he was her new man. They were together so much and often spent late nights at her parent's house. He'd already spent the night there several times, sleeping in her older brother's old room. By the time her birthday arrived, he was staying at her family's home instead of Royal's house. He told her he was going to stay another month in Oakland, and that was fine with her. Her parents weren't coming back until August. He did his reviews making his little pocket money, took long drives in his car hanging out with lowrider clubs on weekends, and sometimes spent the night out. Layla assumed he was seeing Brent or whoever else he was sleeping with. He never brought anyone to the house.

Her birthday was a great success, the theme was Underworld Glam, and her friends showed out with their hair, couture, and attitude. Erik wore dark clothes and she made him wear eyeliner and a black leather bondage corset. He looked so sexy.

Party in full swing, she flitted around her guests and Erik mingled very well among them. They partied hard into the night and she overdid it, passing out on the couch.

The next morning, she showered, washing her hair and letting it air dry. She was so proud that she didn't have a pounding headache or an upset stomach from all the drinking she did. The last thing she remembered was smoking with Erik and bidding a few guests goodnight.

Craving bacon and orange juice, she started frying up the meat. She heard the shower go on. A few minutes later Erik strolled into the kitchen.

"Morning," Erik said.

He walked in wearing gray boxer briefs and rubbing lotion on his naked chest. She tried not to stare every time he did that around the house, but it was hard. His body was ridiculous.

"Bacon?" she said pointing to a plate of bacon draining on some paper towels.

"Of course," he said picking up a piece and munching on it.

He washed his hand in the sink and grabbed a mixing bowl and some pancake mix from the pantry. He bumped his hip into hers and she punched him.

The toilet down the hall flushed.

Layla stopped and turned her body toward the sound.

Someone else was in the house?

Erik stirred eggs and milk into his pancake batter and acted like nothing was off.

"Hey."

Layla's mouth fell open when she saw a woman from her party from the night before step into the kitchen wearing one of Erik's t-shirts and nothing else. She was a guest of Pam's, one of the few extra people that Layla allowed to attend her shindig. What was her name again? Nia.

"Morning," Erik said.

"Can I get a towel? I didn't know which one I can use," she said hugging up on Erik's back.

Layla's mouth was still open as she watched Erik bend down and kiss Nia. Tongue and all.

"I'll hook you up," he said.

"Hi, Layla. Super cool party last night. I'm so glad I came!" Nia said.

"Oh yeah? Great...happy you had a good time."

She turned back to the stove and turned over the bacon.

Erik followed Nia back to the bathroom and the woman reached out and grabbed Erik's dick. He swatted her behind as they left.

Layla stood with the cooking meat seething.

The shower went on and Erik slipped back into the kitchen mixing his pancakes.

"How many do you want?" he asked stepping next to her and reaching for the big pan hanging above the stove.

"Should I cook more bacon since Nia is here?"

There was a bite in her tone and Erik caught it.

"Are you upset she's here? I thought we were cool with me having overnight guests. That's what you told me when I moved in."

"That's when I thought you were gay."

Oops.

She closed her eyes.

Erik put the pan on the stove and set the pancake mix aside on the counter.

"What made you think I was gay?"

Shit.

"It's cool. You can have overnight guests."

"If it's cool, why do you sound pissed about it? And who said I was gay?"

His voice was demanding. He stepped closer to her, jamming her up against the counter.

"Layla—"

"I saw you and Brent. The night we were at Royal's house party. It was an accident. I was getting some cleaning supplies...your door was open..."

Erik leaned back against the counter.

"I'm sorry," she said.

He rubbed his chin and his eyes were full of contemplation.

"I'm not tripping over you being an accidental voyeur."

"Good."

"Why are you mad about, Nia?"

"Had I known you were Bi or fluid, I wouldn't have laid back in the cut. I'm mad because I didn't know you were into women too. God, don't look at me like that!"

She punched his arm and he laughed.

"You've been feeling me?"

"Erik, don't rub it in..."

"I'm not rubbing it in—"

"Then stop grinning so hard."

"I'm grinning because everything makes sense now."

"What?"

"I've been trying to hook up with you since I came back. I thought we were into each other and then you just pulled back."

"Since you hooked up with Nia, does that mean you and Brent aren't...serious?"

"Brent and I used to be together a long time ago. We kick it, but I'm single."

"And Nia?"

They both heard the shower water cut off.

"I blew that back out—"

"Erik, c'mon now."

"Nia was a good time. Dassit. You tryna get into some shit with me, cuz I'm here for it."

His eyes were earnest and shiny with possibilities. Her eyes dropped to look at his chest and the package he was carrying in those boxer briefs.

"Say the word and Nia's gone."

"This is kinda tacky. She's about to walk in here and...hi Nia..."

Layla stepped away from Erik and his dangerous body. Nia's face lit up when she saw Erik's.

"How many pancakes would you like to eat, Nia?" Layla asked grabbing the batter on the counter and turning on the fire.

"That's so nice to offer breakfast. Three will be just fine. Can I help with anything?"

"Nope, just sit down and we'll be eating soon."

Erik grabbed plates and silverware and set up the table. After grabbing orange juice from the fridge and filling up cups, he took over making the pancakes as Layla sat at the table trying to avoid eye contact with Nia.

As they ate breakfast together, Erik kept staring at Layla, and Layla couldn't help but stare back at him. Her mind was all over the place. She wished she had just been forthright with Erik and asked about Brent sooner. All that time they spent together dancing around their obvious attraction for each other, only because she made an assumption and didn't open her damn mouth.

Nia was cute, and Layla saw why Erik slept with her.

When they were done eating, Nia was nice enough to stack their dishes in the dishwasher. Erik took her to his bedroom and a half-hour later Nia was waving goodbye to Layla with a sincere smile on her face. Layla stayed in the living room until Erik finally came out, dressed, and in a great mood. He sat next to her.

"Nia?" she asked.

"We're cool. She knows I'm not here long. I told her I had fun and that was it. She changed the sheets on my bed, gave me her number and that was that."

"That easy, huh?"

"I'm not tossing her number. In case you and I go on the outs, I have back up."

He jumped back from her before she pinched his arm.

Her eyes grew serious.

"What about you and Brent?"

"What about him?"

"You still see him, right?"

"Yeah."

"You sleep with him, right?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes we just hang out."

"I got the feeling that he has deep feelings for you when I saw him with you before I left that party."

Erik's eyes turned serious.

"He and I have a complicated relationship. I'm not easy to be with. I gotta be straight up with you on that. We have an understanding that our relationship is just fun this time around."

"Is that all you want? Fun?"

"Yeah. Look at it from my point of view. I have to return to M.I.T. Clear on the other side of the country. I'm studying in a competitive field, and I'm very one-sided when I'm in school. A serious relationship is not what I want. A long-distance relationship doesn't work with me."

Layla looked down at her hands.

"Is that a dealbreaker for you? What do you want?" he asked.

"I want to have fun too. I got out of a relationship months ago, and I haven't found anyone interesting enough to hold my attention. Until you. We have fun together. You challenge me. I don't need a serious relationship, but I want to have a relationship...with you. No strings."

He moved closer to her.

"I don't want to be exclusive, Layla. It's not in my nature to be monogamous. I hurt people when they want me to be one on one. Straight up."

"You'll still see Brent?"

"Will that be a problem? Be honest."

"I don't want it to be."

"You can see who you want too."

"I'm just interested in you right now."

"Layla, you have to be upfront with your concerns now. Once I'm in it, I'm in it, and I hate people coming at me later acting weird like they didn't understand what the relationship is."

"I hear you."

"And?"

"You and I will embark on having fun friends with benefits relationship. It's an open relationship. I've been in those before."

"For real?"

"I've also been with a Bi man before."

"Okay, so we can do this."

"Will you let Brent know about me?"

"It's none of his business."

"You just sat here and talked about openness...honesty."

"He knows that I will see other people while I'm here."

"We live together, Erik. If you were living with Brent, I'd want to know that."

"You want me to tell him?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'll tell him."

He pushed a big thick curl from her left eye.

"You still look tired from last night."

"I am."

"Go back to bed. I'm going to work on some reviews."

She stood up.

"So it's official. We are a thing," she said swinging her fingers back and forth between them.

"Until you dump me or I return to school."

He kissed her hand.

She floated back to her bedroom and got undressed. It was warm already so she crawled onto her bed nude.

So many scattered thoughts.

Her and Erik Stevens doing the damn thang.

It was too hot to sleep, so she dozed on and off until her restless spirit made her leave her room. She knocked on Erik's door.

"Come in."

Layla walked in and Erik's eyes took in her nakedness with delight in his eyes.

"Your room is cooler than mine," she said.

Crawling onto his bed next to him, she rested her head on his chest.

She was still restless. Turning her face up to his, she kissed him, and his fluffy lips engulfed hers. Whatever it was that held them back fully ignited. They were ravenous with their mouths, his wet kisses easily making her swoon in his arms. Her clit plumped up and she felt her juices flowing between her legs.

"I want you," she said.

His eyes showed the same aching need.

"Lemme take care of you, alright?"

She nodded.

He slid down her body and traced wet circles around her nipples before heading further south.

Big lips, big teeth, big wide tongue...God in heaven, Erik's hot tongue dragged slowly across her vulva and she saw all of her cream slather the muscle in his mouth. She gasped and his dimples teased her eyes as well as his smile. His lips were glazed with her generous wet offerings, and when he twisted his tongue to the side of his lips displaying controlled dexterity, she knew her pussy was done for. The tip of his tongue glided around her engorged inner lips for a long time, and when it darted fast to flick just under her clitoral hood, she knew the demon in him was coming out. Her pussy was dripping like a running faucet. She yelped and he pressed down on her stomach to force her back down from the levitation she was about to perform off the bed. He lapped up so much stickiness from her folds that it looked like he had poured a whole bottle of lube all over his mouth and chin.

"Damn baby...wet as fuck...you ready for this dick. I'ma be slippin in slidin all in you."

The loud exhale from her mouth made him grin and her arms kept reaching back to grab onto something to anchor her body to the bed, but they could find nothing to grasp with no headboard. Her disruptive wiggling annoyed him. He spanked her slick mound with his hand.

"Calm your ass down. I ain't even done nothin' yet."

Nigga, what?

She already felt like he had plucked every hair follicle from her scalp, then heightened and obliterated all the nerve endings across her swollen vulva. His big ole mouth returned to her folds. If this man made her cum it would be a done deal-

"Ohhhhh Shiiittttt!" she shouted.

The heavy contractions from her vaginal walls forced her toes into unnatural configurations. Erik's eyes were closed as his entire plush mouth vibrated and sucked the living daylights from her body. Dassit. Pussy was gone. Her thighs vibrated the morse code thumpings her clit was sending out and her ass cheeks clenched so tight that she lifted Erik's neck when her hips shot up with the aftershocks that cascaded down from her scalp to her kneecaps. She felt like the back of her ankles had fallen off. Her hands shot down to grab his head, trying to remove his incubus ways from her destroyed pussy.

"Nuh, uh...get up..." she begged.

"What?"

"Nah, nigga, for real. Get off me!"

Layla pressed her eyelids tight, still feeling tremors inside her body. The coochie was not ready.

Erik pressed down on her stomach again.

"Relax," he commanded.

He brushed her hands away when she tried to push his forehead back.

"Stop playing."

His voice was raspy and when she stared into his eyes, he rolled his tongue so that the wide flesh there rippled like pink ocean waves. Pressing his mouth back onto that sensitive wet place on her again, Erik took full control. His tongue sank deep into her pussy doing those waves inside her body and Layla's head fell back with Michael Jordan meme tears squeezing out from her lids.

"Oh God...Oh God...Oh God...Oh God...hmmmm....Oh God...Erik...Oh God..."

Her whimpering prayers to the most high went unanswered. The Lord turned a blind eye as Erik gave her a world-class pussy training. And taming.

Glancing down at him again, she saw his tongue sitting in her pussy deep and hella comfortable like it was moving in as a new long-term tenant.

One. Two. Four...five...six. A dozen orgasms later, her kitty a soggy puddle on the bed, her face soaked with tears, Erik licked, sucked, and kissed his way back up her belly button, across her chest, her chin, and her forehead. Kissing both her cheeks before giving her a loud smooch on the lips, he stretched out next to her and brushed his fingers across her hair

"You doing okay?"

"Man! Listen! Fuck you. To your core. That was some Illuminati shit."

Dimples in his cheeks again, big teeth grinning once more, Erik laughed before checking the time on his phone. She saw the time and also a few text messages waiting for him.

He had spent forty minutes eating her out. Forty minutes pulling multiple orgasms out of her.

Erik stroked the side of her neck and she jumped, all of her skin tingled with the ripples of pleasure she still felt coursing through her.

Please, Lord. Don't let me fall in love with this man just cuz he eats pussy like this...

Layla took a look at his dick and thanked God he took his time with her pussy. She was going to need all the lubricant and muscle relaxation possible to handle all that jutted back at her. He tugged on it and the pre-cum that had already pooled on his tip cascaded down and he used it to slicken the entire length. Goddamn, there was a lot there. The girth alone had her nervous. Shit was heavy-looking, and his nutsack had her wishing she had her prayer beads. She had a few long-dick niggas in her past, and she maneuvered length pretty good. She wasn't an expert dick rider—give her a few minutes and she could trick average dudes into thinking she was a bronco buster—but this thick wood hitting against her thigh had her sweating. She slid her fingers around the head just to measure the circumference, and she couldn't get the tip of her thumb and index finger to touch together around it. Fuck.

"You gon' be alright shawty," he said gripping his meat and fisting the length up and all the way down to the root.

His groin was well-groomed, and the rich-brown color of his dick was immaculate.

"I want to suck your dick so bad," she said.

Erik rolled off the bed and stood at the end of it.

"Get over here," he said.

His fingers squeezed the head and his pre-cum dripped onto the floor.

Layla sat on the edge in front of him. She fondled his balls before she wrapped her lush lips around his erection.

He fucked her throat like he was trying to put a baby down her neck.

She did her best to keep up with his thrusts. Her saliva fell out of her mouth and coated his dick and her own breasts. Erik pulled out and stroked himself.

"Lemme show you how much I can put in you," he said with harsh exhales.

She pushed her breasts together.

"Shit....look at me, Layla!"

Her eyes stayed on his until he shouted her name and drenched her chest with cum.

She smeared it around her nipples while still watching his face. When the last of his semen fell from his slit, Erik gripped her face hard and pulled her up to her feet.

"You are going to be trouble," he said.

"Good trouble for you," she said.

When he kissed her, the truth came to fruition: she wasn't going to be any trouble at all.

He was.


	2. Mary Magdalene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik adjusts to juggling two relationships and figuring out his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may add more to this later, but for now, I will leave this as a two-chapter story.

"You live alone in a crowded bed never remembering faces Conversations just a body for the lonely  
Spend one night with me satisfy me for free and I'll love you endlessly  
I overheard you say you'd give them what they wanted  
So give me what I want

Tell me I'm the only one  
I want to marry you  
Tell me I'm the only one"

Me'Shell Ndegeocello—"Mary Magdalene"

Brent took the paper that Erik handed him.

Sitting on the sea wall of Ocean Beach, Brent stared at the medical form. Erik was clean.

"I know you've been waiting for that since you showed me yours."

Brent nodded and handed back the paper.

Erik had always been responsible with his sexual health and they always used condoms, but there was an urgency in the way Erik was pushing this information on him.

"I'm not staying at Royal's right now. I'm kicking it with Layla at her parent's house. They won't be back until the end of August."

"Why did you leave Royal's place?"

Erik's eyes darted away.

"Me and Layla…"

"Oh."

"I was just over there a lot. Because of work and shit and she let me know that she was into me and…y'know. I was open to it. She wanted me to let you know."

"She knows about us?"

"She found out but didn't know I was into women too."

"Kinda fast."

"We've known each other for a long time. Seeing each other again made things different. We're grown now, and the attraction was there."

"Yeah, I know. I felt it when you introduced me to her. You couldn't keep your eyes off her."

"She's going to be in an open relationship with me. I wanted to let you know so there won't be any friction."

What a surprise.

In the past, Erik would just do what he wanted, there were no conversations about open relationships or even talks about others he wanted to see.

Growth.

"What do you think about it?" he asked.

Brent stared at the water as the low tide waves snaked onto the sand. He didn't like it. Erik's eyes had an earnestness in them, and his lips were pressed tight together like he was waiting for permission to do what he would do anyway.

"I don't think anything. Do you."

"If it's a problem, say that."

Erik's tone sounded rough.

"Keeping it straight up with you, I don't like the fact that you're living with her."

"It's only for a month and then I'm gone."

"Why can't you stay at Royal's?"

"His parents come back tomorrow."

Brent wished Erik had kept quiet. He wanted to believe he was the only one once more.

"You could stay with me."

"I have my own room at Layla's."

Erik's eyes were bright in the sun, the rich brown glowing with health and vitality.

"If you're comfortable there then it's fine with me."

"I should've kept my mouth shut."

Erik jumped down from the low sea wall and dusted his hands of sand.

"We were supposed to be having fun, remember?" Erik snapped.

"Yo, I'm all about the fun. Let's go get some drinks and some good eats."

Brent slid down off the wall and stood next to Erik. The cords in Erik's neck were visible and his jawline was extra tight. He pulled out his keys and Brent followed him to his car.

Hopping into the front passenger seat, Brent kept his eyes on Erik's face. When he stuck his keys into the ignition, Brent touched his arm.

"Erik, we can be cool with this. For real, man. Layla is good people. I'm actually going to meet with her about doing another article about my work."

Erik stared at him.

"I called her two days ago to apologize about not being able to do the photoshoot and she suggested doing a story about me. We're going to meet up soon."

"I can see it on your face. You hate me staying with her."

"It's hard not to be envious, Erik. She gets to see you all the time—"

"She works full time. I see her for a couple of hours a night and then she's in her room sleep."

"I don't need details—"

"Yeah, you do. I like her. It's different because we were friends first. She's a lot like you."

Erik's hands clutched at his steering wheel.

"I like being with both of you. You two make me feel…light…I don't feel shit weighing me down. It makes me feel good. I can breathe. Think. I haven't been able to do that in years."

Brent squeezed Erik's hand.

"I'm glad to hear that."

Erik's fingers entwined with Brent's.

"I don't want to be like I used to," Erik said.

"Then don't be."

Erik smiled.

"I won't.

Erik took him to a bar in the Castro district and they held hands strolling around in the nightlife afterward. Brent noticed that Erik's whole demeanor was light and easy. Much easier than he had been in the past.

They went clubbing and met up with some old friends at a dive that played 90s Hip Hop. Brent caught him texting on his cell a few times and he wondered if he was checking in with Layla.

Brent thought about his pre-planned meet-up with her. He was tempted to call her and cancel the entire interview. It would just be awkward talking to her again. Sitting at a coffee shop and talking shop about vintage cars and knowing they were both sleeping with the same man. He wondered how she really felt about it. Maybe she was like him and pretended to tolerate it because she wanted Erik as much as he did.

Staring at Erik as he sipped on Henny and caught up with their old friends, Brent wished that the love of his life could stay there with him and not return to Massachusetts. A hot bass beat rumbled the club and Erik shouted his approval. They all danced and when sweat rolled down Erik's forehead, Brent wiped it from his eyes. That smile. All those white teeth. That flirty playful personality. Erik leaned in and kissed Brent, their mouths teasing and promising more later in the night.

Shaking his hips with abandon, Erik stepped back further on the floor and the flashing lights of the club made him look like a deity. Brent watched him close his eyes and throw his head back as he raised his hands to the beat.

Light.

Free.

Brent spun around so Erik wouldn't see the welling of tears in his eyes. He longed for Erik to find a sense of inner peace, and if having Layla and him both brought that out of him, he was willing to accept the arrangement wholeheartedly. Erik grabbed his hand and pulled him off the dance floor.

"Let's go home," he said dragging Brent out of the dive and down the street toward the parking structure.

Home?

Brent reached for the door handle of the car and Erik brushed up against him. He could feel Erik's erect dick pressing against his waist. Erik's lips were dry from dehydration and the rough feel of them tickled Brent's mouth as Erik kissed him. Erik shoved him against the car and the heavy print of his dick awakened his own manhood. Brent threw his arms around Erik's neck. If they pulled together any closer, they would become one being.

When they climbed into Erik's car, his hands fumbled in Brent's lap to unfasten his pants. Erik's tongue curled around Brent's dick and slowly made the flesh there plump up to a solid hot mass. Brent placed his left hand on Erik's head as his eyes checked for any bystanders who might see them.

"Oh!" Brent gasped as Erik's lips went up and down his erection with expert care.

Head falling back on his seat, Brent closed his eyes and let Erik give his dick the loving it deserved.

Once Erik started groaning and making the sounds vibrate all over Brent's shaft, he pushed Erik's head back and away from his body.

"Pull out your dick," Brent begged, fisting his own dick.

Erik unzipped his pants and pulled them down around his hips. His dick was hard and heavy against his stomach. His slit was already pooling pre-cum down the side of his fat wood. Sliding his natural lubricant around the head, Erik's eyes stayed on Brent's hand working his own dick.

"Got me out here beating this wood, boy," Erik said, his voice full of lust.

"Keep beating that dick…harder…" Brent grunted, feeling his pre-cum spill out.

"You like how I'm stroking this?" Erik said, his voice a low growl in his throat.

Brent loved that sound and his mouth grew lax as he watched Erik work his fingers up and down from the root to the tip. It was so swollen. Brent's mouth watered.

Squeezing his balls, Erik teased Brent by twisting his fingers around the girth of his tip. He toyed with his pre-cum, dipping his fingers in it and showing Brent how much was spilling out. The thick clear strings of it danced all over his thumb.

Erik was a trap.

It was moments like this, when he was vulnerable and confident at the same time, that turned Brent on. It was the way Erik's eyes promised forbidden fun as his big pretty lips let slip a tongue that was known to do damage to many a body and soul.

When Erik stared at his own dick, enjoying the sensations his own hand provided him, Brent felt his balls jump. Beating his meat while watching Erik stroke his pipe sent him spiraling. His rigid manhood shot out cum and the moment Erik saw his release, his dick began spitting, wetting up the steering wheel. Erik's load was so heavy, he kept cumming even after Brent sagged in his seat with aftershocks from his orgasm.

Erik fell back in his seat breathing heavy. His dick was still hard even as Brent's slowly became flaccid in his hand. Erik gulped air and closed his eyes. He jumped when Brent grasped his dick.

"Wait…," Erik warned.

His skin was still sensitive, so Brent caressed it with light squeezes. He tongued Erik's mouth and felt him squirm in his seat. Eventually, he relaxed and Brent felt his dick get firmer in his hand.

"Suck my dick," Erik whispered in his ear.

Brent dropped his head down in Erik's lap and went to town on that dick. Lips smacking, tongue dipping, and throat penetrated to the root, the loud Gluk-Gluk-Gluk sounds of Erik fucking his mouth made Brent squeeze tears from his eyes. His gag reflex was just okay and he had to lift his mouth off of Erik's girth every few seconds just to breathe properly.

"I'm 'bout to nut right now…get ready…fuck…get ready…I'm cummin'!"

The flood of semen choked him. Brent tried to lift up from Erik, but the man had his hands on his head and shoved him down, busting his throat open with more ejaculate. When Erik released him, Brent felt woozy and swallowed every drop of cum even as he wilted on the seat. They both sat back waiting for their bodies to calm down.

Wiping his lips, Brent glanced over at Erik. His eyes were still closed, and his right hand sat on his limp dick. Brent stroked his arm and Erik sat up. Reaching into his glove compartment, Erik took out some dashboard cleaner wipes and removed traces of his semen from the steering wheel and dabbed some on his pants to catch the excess on his clothes and hand. Brent grabbed a couple too.

Starting the car, Erik drove them back toward Brent's place.

"What's up?" Brent asked when Erik stopped at a 7-Eleven.

"Need some juice for my stomach. You want anything?"

"No."

Brent watched Erik stroll into the store. The man's cell phone lit up in the charging bay, and Brent looked at it. The name that flashed across the screen was "Nia." Brent's stomach churned. Watching Erik make his purchase, Brent swiped the phone and read the text.

"I miss you. You miss this?"

There was a picture of a light-brown woman's wet pussy with the lips spread open. Waxed and waiting for Erik to dive right in.

Brent swiped the phone again and watched Erik swagger out of the convenience store.

"Look at this!" Erik said shoving a magazine in Brent's face. He turned on the overhead light in his car.

"That's the cover your ass shoulda been on too!" Erik said proudly.

Brent held the magazine and stared.

Coastline Magazine. Two Black Surfers. Two Black Goths. And Layla being slightly tossed in the air by Erik's car with a smile on her face as wide as Erik's as he stared at her with his head held out of the lowrider's window.

Brent flipped pages in the magazine until he found the article inside and the picture that captured his attention was Layla kissing Erik. The contrast of Layla's High Goth couture and sexy dark make-up against Erik's Oaktown homeboy steez made the photo pop with verve. The surfboards, Princess in her purple glory polished to a high res shine…it was a fucking mood.

"Layla did that shit," Erik said looking at the picture.

Erik's cell rang again. He swiped his phone and when his eyes saw the text and picture and the new message, his eyes held arousal.

"Goddamn," Erik muttered under his breath. He plopped the phone back in the charging bay. Opening a bottle of cranberry juice, he stared at Brent.

"You better do that interview with her," he said.

So slick.

Erik looked at some wet ass pussy waiting for him to swim in and nonchalantly told Brent to meet up with his other woman like it wasn't shit.

Back in his apartment, Brent watched Erik shower and listened to him make plans for working out throughout the weekend.

"I've been eating non-stop since I've been back, and it's making me feel heavy. Gotta get back on a regiment. Too many burritos and soul food," Erik said while brushing his teeth.

Brent was tucked in his bed, already showered and refreshed.

"You can get a free starter-trial at my gym. It lasts a week. Use it before you head back to school."

"I will take you up on that," Erik said.

His lower half wrapped in a blue towel and nothing else, Erik sauntered into the bedroom. His cell buzzed on the dresser. He glanced at it and Brent could see several thoughts running through Erik's facial expression.

Anxious, Brent sat up in the bed.

"Everything okay?" he asked with trepidation.

"Yeah."

"Is it Layla?"

"Nah."

Instead of climbing in bed with him, Erik put his clothes back on.

"I'll hit you up tomorrow, B. Gotta take care of something."

Erik gave him a quick peck on the lips and shoved his cell phone in his back pocket. He grabbed the half-finished bottle of cranberry juice on the nightstand and hustled out of the apartment fast.

Brent's bedroom felt hollow. The warmth that Erik brought with him left the moment he stepped out of the front door. He could feel the chill in the air with Erik's absence.

The silence was the worst part.

And just when Brent thought he had Erik once more, had him in the palm of his hand like some substantial tactile thing he could capture and hold onto, Erik became smoke, a fleeting nebulous being that floated away from his fingertips. Whoever had a hold of him on that phone would have Brent tossing and turning all night, bitter with disappointment. Regret. Once again, Erik Stevens had come into his world like a tornado smashing to bits the precarious tender heart Brent had been nursing for years. He was still in love with this self-centered man. The gravitational pull was too strong. He was swept back into the black hole of nothingness and all things. Erik was all things to Brent, but Brent was nothing to him in return. He fisted his left hand on his pillow and openly wept.

Dammit!

Crying over this fuck nigga yet again.

###

Erik drove around the block twice before finding a parking place. He ran five blocks to the club address that was texted to him.

Once he found the place, he saw Royal and his friends outside arguing with other club patrons and a couple of bouncers.

Royal was in a heated exchange with a white man who was not here for Royal's bravado.

"We can't have shit without you gentrifying hoes taking over everything and making life shit for the niggas who been here waayyyyyy before your pale faces got here!" Royal screamed.

Royal was drunk and high, and Erik recognized the escalation signs. Shit was about to pop off.

"C'mon Royal, I'll take you to Layla's," Erik said rushing forward and blocking Royal from the white dude.

"Nigga I ain't going nowhere until these hoes fucking leave!"

Erik turned to Steph, Royal's bestie.

"What happened?" he asked.

"He's upset that the culture is changing here. These people made some comments he didn't like and you know Royal…."

"What did they say?"

"I'll tell you! Liquor got them hella loose, so they felt real comfortable telling niggas up in here that they should probably move along because there was a new sheriff in town—"  
"It was a joke!" A white guy screamed in Erik's ear.

"Watch your tone in my fucking ear?!" Erik barked shoving the guy back.

A leviathan of a Black bouncer stepped to Erik.

"Fall back, Shrek," Erik said flexing his shoulders, "I can hand out ass whoopings too."

"This nigga can put you in the ground, son," Royal screeched shoving his fingers into the bouncer's chest.

Shrek snatched Royal up quick and slammed him against the building wall.

Godammit.

He had some good dick waiting for him at Brent's house, was getting pussy pics and invites to fuck that he didn't ask for, and had a girl that made him re-think monogamy available to him, but here he was doing a late-night rescue for Royal's belligerent ass.

Erik flexed his neck and pulled the bouncer back, punching him in the gut in one fluid motion. The other bouncer lunged forward but Erik side-stepped him, shoving him back against the wall where he hit his head and tumbled to his knees in a daze. The first bouncer punched Erik in the jaw and the connection made him stagger. It hurt like hell and Royal tried to defend Erik.

Whoop! Whoop!

Police sirens shattered the commotion in front of the club.

"Run nigga!" Erik shouted.

Royal's friends scattered.

Steph grabbed Royal and dragged him down the street. Erik ran behind them before cops arrived. The sirens grew louder and Erik heard shouting in the background.

"Where are we going?" Steph yelled.

Erik booked past them.

"My car is down here!"

Erik shoved Royal in the backseat of his car as Steph jumped in the front seat. His tires jumped up and they screeched away at breakneck speed.

"You better not be throwing up back there!" Erik shouted over the back seat.

"Stop driving so fast then. Giving me motion sickness!" Royal screamed from the back.

Erik dropped Steph off at her house and drove Royal to Layla's parent's house. Royal was still loud and obnoxious.

"Man shut up! I'm tryna get you inside without waking up your parents and the neighbors," Erik hissed.

Erik fumbled with the key in the door and Layla opened it.

Hair covered in a bonnet and body encased in a fluffy red and white robe, Layla helped Erik pull Royal inside.

"Let go! Shit! I'm fine!" Royal snapped.

He flopped down on the couch and covered his face with his arm.

"What happened?"

Layla stared at Royal.

"He got into some shit at a club. Steph called me to get him. Cops showed up after we left."

"Royal, what did you do?"

"Why do you think it was me?"

"Because it's always you," she said.

"I'm tired of going to Black spaces where we can do Black things in the safety of Black spaces and have it overrun and changed to accommodate gentrifi—"

"Oh, he was at the Mirage. Say no more," Layla said plopping her ass next to Royal.

Erik leaned against the couch.

"Every week you go there and complain," she said.

"I'm tired of it. Tonight was the worst. They had a long-ass set dedicated to tired pop trash. I ain't pay my money to listen to white people imitating Black people's music. We go there for our deep house, our underground Hip Hop, our obsidian dripping electronica, and these bitches want to switch up our oasis to play unseasoned tripe? Really? In my hood?"

Layla patted his leg.

"Sleep it off, then go home in the morning."

"This white boy had the nerve to tell me to get over his ruination of the culture. See, that's our fault. We let any and everyone in our culture and then they take over and dilute it to tasteless drivel. We need to start putting up fences. Mirage is ours. It's one of the few places where the queers, the straights, and everything in between and outside the margins of the marginalized can be Black together. Grimy Black. That sweaty, hunch in your back, nasty Black stank face partying. But nooooo….."

Erik watched Royal go off for another half hour until he fell asleep. Layla stared at him, then snuck off the couch. They tiptoed to Erik's bedroom and laughed together.

"Oh, shit, Erik…your face…"

Layla touched his cheek, and the pain made him hiss. It felt swollen.

"You got into a fight?"

"Just getting the bouncers off Royal."

Layla rushed out of the room and returned with a can of frozen juice concentrate inside a plastic bag.

"Thanks."

"You need some painkillers?"

"Nah. I can deal with it."

She nursed him until the pain died down a bit. He moved his jaw around. It was okay.

"Get some sleep. Thanks for bringing him here."

"Yeah, I know his parents would throw a fit with him coming home acting like that."

"Night," she said.

"Wait a minute."

He pulled her in close.

"I haven't seen you all day. Gimme a kiss."

She pushed away from him.

"I look a mess."

"You look good to me."

Her eyes danced around his until he held her chin and forced her to look at him. She gave him a peck on his lips.

"Was work good?"

"It was okay. A little hectic. That NPR story about us played this morning and this afternoon it got really busy with curious people. Sold a lot of that new lube you recommended. You owe me some reviews."

"I'll finish them tomorrow."

"I brought you some more product. It's on the kitchen table."

"Wait. Don't go yet…"

He snatched up her hand and pulled her back.

"I told Brent…about me being here."

Layla's eyes held his.

"I think he's okay with it."

"You think?"

"He wasn't happy about it, but I told him what I wanted. He'll deal with it."

She stayed quiet.

"Aye, I bought a copy of Coastline!"

Her eyes lit up.

"I left it in my car, but damn…Layla…shit was fire, Ma."

She grinned from ear to ear.

"It looks so amazing and the reception to the article is blowing up my social media. I'm getting a lot of texts asking about you," she said.

"Oh yeah?"

"People like what they see."

Erik's cell buzzed. He pulled it out.

"What the hell is that?" Layla said.

"Nia keeps hitting me up."

"Is that her vagina on your phone?"

Layla snatched his cell and stared at the explicit photo.

"You need to sell that girl a dildo and tell her to stop playing on your phone…what are you doing? Erik!"

He pressed Nia's number and the dial tone was loud.

"Erik…"

Nia's lust-filled voice oozed out of the speakerphone.

"Yo, Nia. Listen up, my girl don't want you sending me pictures of your pussy no more. I appreciate the thought, and you were hella good, but it's upsetting my new lady, so stall that shit out."

Layla's mouth fell open.

"You have a girlfriend?" Nia asked.

"I do now, so let's keep it platonic."

Nia hung up.

"I can't believe you did that to her. You could've waited until I wasn't in front of you."

"Nah, I wanted you to see me handle that. Now you won't be acting like a weirdo every time my phone rings."

"Did you have to tell her that her pussy was good?"

"A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. We good?"

"We good."

He wrapped his arms around her waist.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?"

"I'm going to work on the store website and try some product."

"Working on your day off."

"I'm still getting paid."

"Tell you what. Let's make a bunch of snacks and try products together."

"A product date?"

"Together."

He was itching to be sexual with her. She parsed out intercourse like it was a reward system for him, and he fell into it. He was used to getting sex whenever he wanted it, but she didn't always allow access, and that had him hungering for her. He didn't think it was a tactic for her to control him, it was just the way she was sexually. Layla was very compartmentalized. Her time was carved into specific areas. Work, her podcast, her Black Goth Collective meetups, and her social media presence. Her love life didn't take front and center, and in a strange way, it made Erik feel special when she was with him because when they were together, she went all out with him. All she asked in return from him was to be one hundred percent attentive. That meant turning off his cell phone and focusing on her and only her. He fucked with that heavily.

Layla tucked a loose hair on her neck back inside her bonnet.

"I'll think about it," she said.

His eyes fell to her legs. Her robe only came to her knees and he could see those sexy bowed legs of hers. He tugged on the robe belt trying to untie it and she shoved his hands away.

He dropped to his knees and pushed up the robe, shoving his face into her panties. That's all she had on underneath.

"Erik!" she hissed.

He slid his tongue up and down the panties, wetting the material with his saliva. Her body stopped moving when he sucked on her clit, and her fingers slid across his head rubbing small circles on his scalp.

Panties wet with her juices and his spit, Layla unfastened her robe and let it fall on the floor. He lifted her up and put her on his bed.

She helped him undress and when he reached for a condom, she fisted his dick with both of her hands. Rolling the condom on, he spread her legs wide and pushed her damp panties to the side. His cell vibrated.

"You didn't turn it off?" Layla complained.

He reached for it on his nightstand.

"Again?" Layla said with an incredulous look on her face.

Nia.

Layla snatched his phone again.

"Look at this, another pussy pic," she said.

Layla's eyes were on fire. Erik took the phone, stared at the juicy kitty, blocked the number, and shut it off. He tossed the cell on the floor.

"She want this dick," Erik said lining up his erection with her pussy that gaped open in anticipation. He rubbed the clipped pubic hairs on her vulva. She shivered. He tickled her clit with his thumb and her legs jumped. Gazing at her slick pink slit, he pushed in slowly. He groaned when he entered her halfway, pulling back out to widen her legs even more. He sank in and rested his head against her neck. Kissing her there and up her jawline, he kept still as she took in his girth fully. His weight pushed her down onto the bed and he felt her fingers claw at his back.

"All that wet pussy she got, but I'm here in this gushy stuff," he panted, his shallow thrusts making Layla tighten her legs around his waist.

He licked her neck and bit it just a tiny bit.

"She just want Daddy to give it to her like this—"

"Erik—"

"Mmmhmmm."

"Fuck me."

"Anyway you want it, girl."

"Oohh!"

"Shhh, not so loud. Royal is out there. You gotta take this dick quiet…"

She clutched onto him and shifted her hips, causing him to go deeper.

"Fuck, Layla!"

"Hmmph."

He pressed his forehead into hers as he stroked her. Her eyes were watery and still full of fire. And doubt.

"You got me, Layla. Not her. I want this pussy all on my dick."

"Shit," she huffed. Her mouth fell open when he stroked her in the right spot. He stayed right on top of that stroke game until her eyes were rolling back and she couldn't suppress her groans.

"Pussy talking," he grunted, lifting up his body to hold her legs back further on the bed.

Layla reached up and rubbed her hands on his chest. The strain on her face told him she was trying to keep quiet but his dick was wearing her down. He tossed her legs over his shoulder and held her arms down on the bed locking her in place.

"This your dick. I beat that girl's pussy up in this bed with this wood…"

Erik knew talking about Nia got Layla hot and bothered. He felt her pussy squeeze his dick as he talked about fucking the other woman.

"Had her crying over my dick. You didn't hear it that night? Had that bitch bent like a pretzel all over this bed while you were passed out on the couch."

"Mmmph…Erik."

"I gotchu girl, I gotchu…fuck."

He rolled her over on top of him and her bonnet fell off. All that big hair fell out in a giant cascade of ebony twists. She reached for the silky covering and tried to put it back on.

"Fuck that bonnet," he gasped as he held her hips.

She leaned forward and rode him the best she could until she collapsed on him.

"Keep going, baby," he encouraged.

"It's a lot of dick," she huffed, pushing her twists to the side.

"You taking it though."

He gripped her waist and thrust up, making her squeal.

"Shhh," he reminded her. The walls were thin in the house.

He slid his ass off the bed until only his back rested on it, and with the strength of his legs and thighs, he gave her all the dick she could handle. She had a death grip on his shoulders while he thrust up into her.

"Erik…I'm going to cum…"

He lifted her up and tossed her back on the bed and forced her on her stomach. Mounting her from behind, he took her hard. She spread her legs and he pushed all his weight on her and grabbed her by her throat, choking her. With his mouth against her ear, he pumped his dick in and out hard and fast, making her lose her breath.

"This my pussy?"

"Yes!" she gasped. Her voice was strained from his grip on her neck.

"Tell me!"

"This your pussy!"

He ripped her underwear all the way off and sank deeper into her wet heat.

"You 'gon worry about Nia getting this wood?"

"No!"

"Cum on my dick, Layla."

He saw her eyes squeeze shut and she shuddered…a full-body shudder. Her orgasm came in waves across her body and he felt her walls squeeze all around his erection. The aftershocks sent him over and he pressed his fists on the bed, lifted up, and moved his hips in a slow deadly circle as Layla clawed the blanket they were on.

Once he had her cheeks clapping, he was done.

"Layla!"

The shout erupted from his lips loud and he felt his balls throb as his cum rushed into the condom tip.

"Fuck, baby…pussy so good girl…"

He dropped on top of her and his gasps for breath matched hers.

She shoved him aside when she couldn't handle his weight anymore. He stroked her sweaty thighs and then peeled off the condom. She limped her worn-out body to the bathroom, and he followed, tossing the condom in the trash.

"Can I have any privacy?" she asked.

"You just peeing."

She pushed on his hip to make him leave as he washed his hands.

"Close the door!" she shouted.

He left her on the toilet and padded into the kitchen nude. The tan box with his name on it sat waiting for him, and he opened it.

A vibrator made for men caught his eye, along with a few crazy shaped colorful anal plugs.

Layla wandered into the kitchen and he grabbed at her waist and planted a kiss on her lips. She fingered the male vibrator and her eyes took on a mischievous glint when she saw the anal plugs.

"We might have some good fun tomorrow," she said.

He slapped her butt then held her right ass cheek giving it a healthy squeeze.

"What's that look for?" he asked.

She shook her head and he squeezed her ass harder.

"Nothing…I'm just…I'm just kinda trippin' in my head that you and me…that we're doing what we're doing. The two people who spent all their time together being at each other's throats… end up fucking each other's brains out."

"Opposites often attract."

"I guess."

"But I think you were into me when we were kids."

"Tuh."

"You were always up in my face."

"Like I had a choice. My parents were friends with Royal's parents before you even showed up—"

"Yeah, but you used to linger…hard. Just admit it. You liked me."

"I did not."

"Yes you did. When I was chasing after Kimmy down the street you used to have resting bitch face whenever I brought her over or talked about her."

"She was a pain in the ass. How could you possibly like someone like that?"

"Titties."

She punched him in the shoulder and he punched her back.

"Ow!" she yelped.

"Yeah, now you know how that feels."

He lifted her up and threw her over his shoulder. Heading to her bedroom he slapped her ass.

"Time to mess up your bed," he said.

###

Layla watched Erik while he slept.

He had an arm thrown around her waist and his head was close to hers on the pillow they shared. It still felt weird to be with him, even though she had to admit that they fit together. Unlike most relationships she had, Erik didn't pressure her about her time. When they were together, they were together, but when she had things to do, or planned activities with her friends without him, he just accepted it. That took a lot of pressure off of her. Her last boyfriend was a jerk about that, constantly complaining that she cared about her outside activities as opposed to being up under him. Unlike her parents and many of her female friends, Layla was not the type of person who needed a partner to fulfill her life.

But looking at Erik and having him back in her life…she felt something shifting inside of her.

A longing.

A longing to have him beyond a summer fling.

He had no interest in a long-distance relationship. She didn't either, at first. The more time she spent with him, even the short hours at night after work, the more she felt she needed to be with him. Her feelings for him grew beyond just wanting fun. It was difficult enough knowing that he was seeing Brent too and trying to be an adult about that situation. But the end of August loomed in the distance. Her parents would be back. She'd have to go back to her trifling roommates.

Brent.

She grabbed her cell and texted him.

"Are you free tomorrow to meet up? I get off work at four and can meet you anywhere close to you."

She hoped that he would text back and say he was really busy and then she could just blow off the entire article. She could tell her editor at Coastline Magazine that the subject wasn't getting back to her and the whole thing could die.

"I'm free all day tomorrow until six. We can meet at my job if you don't mind hanging in a hipster bar."

He texted her the name and address and she was actually curious about the bar. It was named one of the hottest bars in Oakland the year before and she never got around to checking it out. She glanced over at her sleeping Prince Charming. Erik was still knocked out.

"Sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow at six. Should be fun!"

She sent happy face emojis and then felt cheesy for doing that. It felt forced.

She was going to meet her lover's other lover.

Although it was true that she was in an open relationship before, that situation involved two guys that she wanted to be with. This was her first time being the chosen and not the chooser. She thought it would be the same as before and not a big deal, but once she and Erik really got into their thing, it felt just a tiny bit uncomfortable. Only because her feelings for Erik had changed. Grown deeper.

She kept quiet about it with Erik. There was no sense souring the situation that was going to end anyway. She decided to suck it up and push through it. It would all be over soon enough, and she would have to deal with his absence in her life. Brent would become a non-issue and forgotten once school started back up.

His eyes opened.

She felt herself melt.

"It's still early?" he asked nuzzling against her cheek.

His voice was so deep in the morning. It gave her tingles. She stroked his neck and shoulder.

"Early enough."

Her left finger traced around his pecs. He leaned back and puckered his lips and she kissed him.

What was Brent thinking right now?

Was he imagining what she and Erik were doing?

When Erik stayed out all night, she tried to pretend that she didn't care that he was with Brent. But her mind made up scenarios. Erik was dicking her down to the point where she could forget coherent thought. He had to be doing Brent the same way. She sat up suddenly.

"W'sup, baby?" he said pulling her back down to him.

"I should go get our snacks for the product date."

"That can wait. Come sit on my face. Lemme prime the pump for later."

She crawled away from him.

"Snacks first. And we should save that energy for the products. If they turn out good, I'll sit on your face all day."

He grabbed his dick. His morning wood could not be ignored.

"Later," she said moving away from him.

Royal was gone when she left the house to go to the store. She went to Trader Joe's because they had a lot of easy foods that could be microwaved easily in bite-sized quantities. She grabbed chicken samosas, pork dumplings, lemongrass chicken eggrolls, gourmet chips and salsas, and a variety of fruit popsicles. She grabbed the vegan chocolate chip cookies he liked and two bottles of red wine.

Returning to her parent's house, she found Erik showered and ready to play.

"Breakfast first," she said.

He made them omelets using some of the salsa she bought, and they spent part of the late morning staring at Coastline Magazine together and admiring how they looked once more. Eventually, Erik started giving her bedroom eyes and she crawled onto his lap to kiss him, their faces moving in tandem to suckle tongues and lips.

A knock on the front door interrupted their make-out session in the kitchen.

"I'll get it," Layla said.

Opening the front door, Royal was there carrying a large and heavy box he could barely hold. She helped him bring it in and they placed it on the coffee table.

"Erik up?"

"Yeah."

"This is for him."

Erik walked into the room.

"What's that?" Erik asked.

Royal wiped the dust off the top of the box.

"Dad said to bring this to you. It's some stuff he's been holding in storage for a long time. He's getting rid of the old shed in the backyard and getting a smaller one. Downsizing things."

Erik opened the box and his curious facial expression turned serious fast. Layla looked into the box and saw a stack of leather-bound journals. He picked one up and opened it. She saw Erik's body stiffen and his face looked…faraway.

"What are they?" she asked.

"Is this the only box?" Erik asked.

"Yeah. As far as I know. That's all they gave me. I'm out. Holla atcha later."

Royal left the house and Erik sat on the couch in front of the box. He opened the journal and flipped through some pages, stopping at one. His fingers touched the paper and he pulled back a necklace.  
"Erik?"

His eyes welled up.

Layla sat next to him quickly and put her arms around him.

"What's wrong? Talk to me…please."

She reached for his hand and forced his fingers back. The silver chain held a heavy silver and black ring on it. It was etched with symbols and she saw Erik's handshake as he held it.

"This all belonged to my father. He used to write a lot, and I couldn't touch his things. I haven't seen these in thirteen years. Fuck."

"That's a really nice ring," she said, trying to encourage him to talk about it.

"My Baba…my father…"

He put the necklace around his neck and flipped through the journal again. It was filled with symbols in carefully written penmanship, even though Layla had no idea what language it was written in. It looked like hieroglyphics to her.

"Can you read that?" she asked.

"Not really. My Dad was Wakandan. He was from East Africa."

"Wow, I didn't know that. Have you ever been there? Before…."

His eyes grew dark with anger.

"Nah. My father left his family to live here. I never met anyone from there."

"Maybe you could get in contact with his family. Maybe there's some contact info…Erik…"

He grabbed the box and left her in the living room. She heard him go to his room and slam the door shut. She walked to his room and knocked on the door.

"Erik. If you want some time alone, that's cool. But I'm here if you want to talk."

He opened the door and his eyes were still wet looking.

"I need some time alone right now. Can we take a rain check on the product date for now? I'm feeling—"

"Hey. It's fine. I just wanted to let you know I'm here—"

He grabbed her so fast that her breath caught in her throat. His embrace was deep and long. When he started to cry his body went limp in her arms.

"Erik," she whispered stroking his neck, "you're okay. I'm right here for you."

She held him in the doorway of his bedroom for a long time. When he pulled back from her, his face looked soft and open.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"Don't apologize."

He allowed her to come into the room and sit on the bed with him. He showed her the journals.

"My father was murdered."

She knew this already, from the stories she heard from Royal's parents as a child.

"My Mom died out in the streets because of her addiction and because of my Dad's murder. She couldn't handle it. My Dad was killed by my Uncle."

"I'm so sorry-"

"No one believed me, not even my mother. I never had proof, but maybe…maybe if I can decipher these journals, I can prove it."

"I have never heard of Wakanda before. Will you be able to find someone to help you understand your father's words?"

"I'll figure it out."

"I can ask around at my school. The linguistics department there has a professor who may be able to help you."

His eyes took hers in and he reached out for her hand. Squeezing it he raised it up to his lips and kissed it. He stood up and grabbed his keys. Layla felt a lump in her throat.

"Where are you going?"

Her voice sounded needy. Scared.

"I just need to go drive. Clear my head."

"Don't leave."

She grabbed his hand.

"It's okay, I'll be right back."

He left her in the house and when she saw his car pull out of the driveway, she felt tears fall and she couldn't fathom why she was so emotional and worried.

She shook her head. That wasn't true.

She didn't want him to go to Brent.

She wanted to comfort him. She wanted him to turn to her and work through his pain.

Layla spent the rest of the morning and part of the early afternoon pacing the living room floor and checking her cell phone.

When she heard his car pull back into the driveway, she did her best to wipe away all the tears that burst out by seeing him.

"Hey," she said as he walked in.

He took one look at her face and hugged her.

"You been crying about me this whole time?"

She shook her head no, but the lie fell flat.

"Layla. Why are you so upset?"

"I thought you went to Brent."

"I told you I was just going out to drive."

"I know, but…"

She couldn't even say it.

He wiped her eyes with his fingers and kissed her cheeks.

"I'm here…with you."

He held her hand and walked her into the dining room. They say across from one another and Layla kept wiping her eyes.

"I hate to see you cry," he said.

"I'm okay…really."

He held the ring in his hand. The silver chain glinted against his skin.

"I'm going to tell you something. Brent is the only other person to know this. You have to keep this to yourself."

"Okay."

"I come from a royal family in Wakanda. My father and my Uncle had some serious beef. My uncle killed my father because of it. I became homeless because of my Uncle. I had to run them streets for a long time because of him. I've done some shit before I came to Royal's family. I have a juvie record. Sealed. Even when I was going to Berkley, I was doing shit. I sold drugs. I ran with a set. Nerd boy during the day, street nigga at night. I even hoed myself out when I needed money. This family shit hangs over my head all the time. Getting my father's journals back…I dunno. Maybe it's a sign to get my shit together. I hope it is."

"You said you were royalty…"

"A Prince. My father was a Prince. My Uncle is the King of Wakanda."

She smiled.

"You do act uppity sometimes."

It made him laugh.

She slipped out of her seat and sat on his lap. He wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Prince Erik—"

"N'Jadaka. My Wakandan name is N'Jadaka."

"Do you know what your name means?"

"No."

"What was your father's name?"

"N'Jobu. N'Jobu Udaku."

"N'Jadaka Udaku," she said in his ear, "did I say it right?"

"Yeah, you did."

"Did your father talk about his country with you?"

"A little bit. But he kept a lot to himself. He sold guns, boosted shit, hustled what he could to take care of me and my mother."

"Why wouldn't anyone believe you about your Uncle?"

"No one believed my Pops was really royalty. He wore this ring every day, could speak four different languages and had people fall in line into whatever he wanted them to do. My Dad told my mother that his brother had it out for him. Showed us pictures of the royal court with him there dressed like royalty…"

He stopped.

Layla watched his face. He wanted to say more but something held him back.

"They have ways of killing people over there, and it was the way my father was killed. He was wounded in his chest. I found him—"

"Ohmigod, Erik…"

"He was dead when I found him. With those marks in his chest. I knew what it was."

Layla touched the ring. It was exquisite. She had no doubt that it was royal jewelry. Staring at the chain that it hung on, her eyes grew big.

"This isn't silver," she said.

"Platinum."

"What is this ring made of?"

"A metal you've never heard of before and some other expensive and rare shit."

"You should contact their embassy. Get a lawyer and confront your family."

Erik ran his hand up and down her back.

"First thing I want to do is decipher my father's words."

He pressed his head against her cheek.

"I'll help all I can," she said, kissing his hand.

###

Brent was already sitting in a booth when Layla arrived for their interview. He stood up from his seat and they gave one another an awkward hug. She slid in across from him. There were already two glasses of red wine on the table in front of them.

"I remembered you were drinking red at Royal's party," Brent said.

"Good looking out," she said gulping down a huge swallow. Liquid courage.

"Can I just say that I am feeling awkward and skittish if you are too," he said.

Layla let out a huge exhale and they both began to laugh.

"Only Erik Stevens can place people in weird situations willingly," Brent said sipping from his glass.

His warm smile made Layla feel safe enough to just be honest.

"I don't know how many times I thought of canceling this meetup," she said. She held onto the stem of the wine glass.

"You don't know how many times I wanted to text you with an excuse not to do this. Literally twenty minutes ago."

Silence.

They sat in the quiet as the bar crawled to life with an afternoon crowd.

The space was wide open with a large curved bar in the corner and kitschy tables and chairs spread out with maneuverability in mind. A small dance floor was in the back near a fancy DJ booth. A long buffet table sat near the bar with Mexican/California Cuisine themed food offerings that several people were lined up for and partaking in.

"I love the décor," she said while sipping more wine.

"Zara Benneton did the design."

"Big time."

"She's an investor. Her brother-in-law owns this place."

"Looks popular. Busy for an early afternoon."

Layla pulled out her micro recorder and placed it on the table.

"Ready?" she asked.

Brent scooted back in his seat.

His thick dark eyebrows made his dark brown eyes probing as he watched her face. Full lips moist. Beard on point. His robin-egg blue button-up shirt hid none of the bulk of his muscles. A thin Cuban link draped his neck. She caught the subtle scent of his cologne. He smelled like success.

She brushed back her hair and took one more drink from her wine glass. Her onyx lipstick was so vivid on the lip of the glass.

"What makes a lowrider beautiful to you?"

Brent's eyes twinkled and he leaned forward and just talked. With passion. He spoke of collecting vintage cars as a kid and helping his father refurbish a sixty-four Impala in junior high. The more he spoke, the more he relaxed, and the more Layla enjoyed being with him.

There was a gentleness in him that was seductive, and he had an open and caring personality that made him even more attractive. So masculine. The man was so fine and Layla caught herself just drowning in his hypnotic eyes.

No wonder Erik couldn't give him up. Within ninety minutes, Brent made Layla feel like she wanted to do weekend brunches with him and become besties. They had way too much in common and even knew some mutuals from the community center.

Layla checked her phone after her third glass of wine.

"Sheesh, we've been sitting for over two hours. What time do you start work?"

"Thirty minutes ago?" he said laughing.

"I am so sorry, Brent!"

"No worries. I'm the bar manager. I can stay later to make up time if I need to. Did you get everything you need?"

Layla checked her recorder then popped it in her purse.

"Yes. I would like to schedule a time to meet with you at your shop to get pictures of any lowriders you are customizing currently."

"Any time. I work there Monday through Saturday 9-5."

Layla typed into her phone's notepad app.

"You put in some hours at your jobs," she said.

"Like I told you, I hope to open up my own shop next year. Saving money to lease a property, get tools, staff. I have a couple of investors lined up. How soon would this article come out?"

"I'm hoping the September issue. I just started working with this magazine. They were a fan of my podcast and interviewed me at the beginning of the year. I pitched them some stories and they have published three things from me so far. You will be my fourth story. I'm hoping to be staffed by them and not just freelance. They are one of the few print magazines still standing and it's because of the photography."

"That subculture article was pretty dope. I'm still bummed I missed out," Brent lamented.

"The good thing is, you get your own page this time."

He played with his empty wine glass. They watched the bar staff break down the brunch table. The red wine had Layla open. Bold.

"How do you feel about sharing Erik?" she asked.

Brent's lips twisted up for a second to match the surprise on his face.

"Hello," he said.

Layla held her hands open on the table.

"You have to be wondering what I think too."

"I was not a fan…at first. Erik and I had been through a lot. As a couple. Having him back has been nice despite the added complication of another person in the mix. I will say he's happier than I've ever seen him. He told me it was because of both of us."

"He said that?"

"Yes."

"I appreciate that he has been discreet and honest about what he wants. He was not always so open—"

"He lied to you a lot?"

"Yes. He hurt me many times."

"Why did you…"

She glanced down at her empty glass, not able to finish her question.

"Why did I keep taking him back? That's what you were going to say, right?"

She nodded.

"You tell me," he said.

"You were in love with him."

"I'm still in love with him."

Layla felt her body grow warm. Especially her face.

Brent glanced over at the bar.

"I should get to work, I can feel the stares of my crew waiting on me," he said sliding out of the booth.

Layla grabbed her purse and stood up with him.

Her eyes regarded Brent with more curiosity. Did Erik love him?

She didn't know what to think if he did.

"You can stay and hang out longer. Drinks on the house," Brent said.

"I'm going to go transcribe this while it's fresh in my head."

"You good to drive?"

"BART."

He held out his arms.

Layla hugged him and the second time was more relaxed and sincere than their first hug.

"This wasn't so bad," he said.

That delicious smile on his face had Layla feeling torn. He was such a nice guy with so much going for him.

But she had a lot going on for herself too.

He said Erik was happy. Well, happy before he received that box of journals.

"Talk soon," Layla said.

She left the bar and headed to the nearest BART station.

Princess was in the driveway and when she walked into the house, she could smell weed and music coming from Erik's bedroom. She knocked on his door and when he didn't answer, she tried the door. It was unlocked.

He was knocked out on his bed naked and curled up on his side. Two journals were open next to him on the queen bed and he had a yellow notepad on top of them with notes scribbled all over it. She turned off the music on his laptop and stood near his dresser watching him sleep.

Brent's words sat in her head.

Going back into her room, she pulled out her laptop and typed up the interview. She spent a few hours organizing how she wanted to open and end the piece. Taking a break for a snack, she met Erik in the kitchen digging in the fridge.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"Good. It's going to be a great write-up. Brent is super sweet and so talented."

Erik studied her face. He tore open a strawberry popsicle and stuck the cool treat in his mouth.

"No friction?"

"None. He's a classy guy and we like a lot of the same things. Did you know he was related to Kimmy your lil junior high girlfriend?"

"No."

"His grandmother is Kimmy's Dad's step-sister."

"Small world."

"Did you know Kimmy is married to a tennis player over in Prague?"

"Nope."

Erik sucked on the dripping popsicle. The slurping sounds made her insides tingle as she watched his tongue suck on it. He scratched his balls through the shorts he wore.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

"Better. Spent some time looking through my Pop's stuff. A lot of it looks familiar. He spoke his language to me, but I wasn't really paying attention beyond basic shit. I remember a little bit of the alphabet, but not enough to read and understand. I looked online for some help. Got a few leads on how to find native speakers who may be able to translate."

A dribble of melted strawberry ice fell down onto his naked chest.

Layla stepped forward and licked her tongue from the middle of his chest up to his chin where the sugary sweet chilled her mouth as she lapped it up. Swiping her tongue across his bottom lip, he opened his mouth and they suckled one another, sharing the coolness as they swapped saliva and tiny seeds from the fresh fruit embedded in the treat.

She asserted her dominance with him and he followed her lead, especially when she hopped up on the kitchen table and pulled off her short skirt and panties. She opened her legs and reached into the band of his shorts and pulled them down to his thighs.

"Layla, wayment, lemme get a condom—"

"It's okay," she whispered in his mouth.

She untied the black zig-zag strings that held her low cut top together releasing her breasts. His cool mouth wrapped around a nipple until it pebbled and he did the same for the other. She reached between his legs and twisted her fingers around his hot spongy tip until his pre-cum beaded around the head and fell onto her fingers. She pushed it against her slick opening.

"You sure about this?" he panted.

"Look how wet my pussy is, Erik," she groaned, patting her kitty and wetting her fingers more. He took the plunge and sat that fat dick at the bottom of her pussy. He held her legs up and apart and let his balls mash against her ass cheeks.

"Goddamn!"

Erik's head fell forward and he watched his dick dip in and out of her. He took his time letting her creamy wetness coat his erection until it was a polished work of art glistening more and more as he pumped in and out of her.

She sprawled out on the table and pulled her legs back, allowing Erik to hunch over her and slam his dick as deep as he could get inside of her.

"Fuck, Layla…what got into you, baby?"

"Keep going, Erik. Please…"

"Take this dick…keep taking this dick…

She arched up from the table and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. The heels of her bare feet rocked against his tight ass, and she pulled desperate grunts from his mouth, his juicy lips parted and ready for more kissing that she gave.

Releasing her lips, a loud shout of her name tumbled out of his mouth. He stared at her breasts and then gazed down at her stretched folds.

"Where you want me to cum?"

The hard tugs of his dick pulled on her clit.

"Layla…where you want this cum?!"

"In my pussy!" she screamed.

His eyes rolled back as he yelled "Fuck!"

She felt his dick swell up as tight pulses worked her walls. His cum was so warm and filled her up with several hard spurts. They both watched his dick jump at the root.

"…letting me make a big ass mess inside you…" he gasped.

Layla reached down and played with her swollen clit, her fingers rubbing firm pressure until she started shaking all over, her release exciting him even more. He pulled out and stroked his dick.

"Open up your pussy lips!"

Erik stuck the head of his dick back in and kept stroking himself. Layla pulled open her slick folds revealing hot eager pink for him and he nutted again.  
"I'm cumming in your pussy again, Layla…fuck….girl…you making me cum so hard inside you."

He pumped more into her and then he pulled back, semen still pooling and falling from his tip. She kept her pussy open for him and he played with his ejaculate as it dribbled back out of her. Kissing her forehead, he hugged her tight, and then brushed her hair back. Gazing into her eyes she saw a questioning look there.

"Why did you let me do that?" he asked.

"I wanted to."

"You said you didn't let niggas raw you unless you were in a serious relationship."

"Well…"

"Layla. Don't bullshit me. You think we're serious now?"

She kept quiet.

"You didn't want no strings…I didn't want no strings—"

"I just wanted you to cum in me. You fuck me so good every time we hook up and when you leave for good, I don't want any regrets that I didn't experience that with you."

"That can't be a regular thing cuz I'm not tryna get you pregnant."

"You know I'm on the pill-"

"I've had some pregnancy scares with the pill, Layla. I'm not tryna win no baby on a third strike."

"Relax, Erik. I hear you."

He rubbed her shoulders and kissed her lips again.

"Shit was good as fuck, though. Might have to do that again real quick. Pussy was just handling my dick like…" He nibbled on her neck before sucking on it.

She pinched his left nipple before hopping off the table to go urinate.

Taking a quick shower, she changed clothes in her room afterward. When she walked past his room to get water from the kitchen, his nose was back down in his father's journals.

###

Brent tried to read a few of the museum description tags on the artwork he admired.

Erik stood next to him craning his neck up to take in the wall-sized black and white silhouettes they stood in front of.

"I heard this was supposed to be a unique take on racism, but from what I'm seeing, this white woman is biting off of Kara Walker's style from the 90s," Erik said.

Brent watched him pull out his phone and jump on an app.

"See?" he said showing Brent his phone.

Brent looked at the googled picture on the cell.

"This Is Walker's piece from 1994 called 'Gone: An Historical Romance of a Civil War as It Occurred b'tween the Dusky Thighs of One Young Negress and Her Heart'. Now look at this thing. See what I'm saying?"

Brent stared back at the art on the wall.

"People have used silhouette art before—"

"Not in the subversive sexualized way that Walker created. There's homage, and then there's biting. Where is this chick?" Erik said glancing around the open space of the museum.

"Erik, don't start no mess," Brent warned.

"I just have some questions," Erik said rubbernecking, "There she go—"

Brent grabbed his arm and pulled him close to his side.

"We are here to observe and enjoy. Please don't confront that woman and ruin and great date night."

"I can't ask the woman questions about here influences?"

"This exhibit is to celebrate queer artists, and in the middle of Pride Weekend, we should stay respectful and supportive—"

"So a white lesbian woman can just jack shit from a Black woman and pass it off as an original voice? You are looking at this on my phone right? This is classic culture vulture moves, Brent…"

Brent glanced round. A few museum patrons were beginning to stare at Erik and listen to his agitated critique.

Erik pointed out all the similarities from the Walker work to the art piece on the wall.

"All this woman did was use current Black Lives Matter imagery to profit off of Black suffering in a safe protected space for art snobs."

Brent laughed at him.

"What's so funny?"

"You."

"Why am I funny?"

"You are the biggest art hoe I know."

Erik's lips twisted up. He looked annoyed. Brent glanced over his shoulder and saw that the artist had moved into another section of the gallery. Thank God.

"Even the title of this shit is a pretentious rip-off."

Erik snapped a photo of the wall. His fingers flew across his phone.

"What are you doing now?"

"Putting this bitch on blast. Hashtag, Walker Did It Better."

Brent pushed at Erik's hands.

"Put that away, let's just enjoy the rest of the exhibit."

"Even in Queer spaces, white fuckery still ruins everything."

"Let it go."

Brent linked his fingers with Erik's and pulled him away from the section.

"I have some good news," Brent said.

They stopped in another area to admire a grouping of photographs of Black profiles. Erik's mood improved looking at the pictures.

"Spill it."

"Since that article came out, I've been contacted by three investors who have actually put up money for my shop."

Erik stopped looking at the pictures and stared at Brent.

"You serious?" Erik asked, a big grin on his face.

"Yes! That means I can open my place sooner. One of the investors hooked me up with a space that is perfect. Layla did me a solid writing about me."

Erik hugged him and Brent felt his heart soar.

"That's what's up," Erik said.

"I quit the shop this morning."

"No shit?"

"Things are moving so fast. If she hadn't done that article…"

Brent's eyes watched a busy pathway as Layla and Royal strolled in holding museum pamphlets. Erik turned his head and saw them too. Brent hoped they would move past without seeing them, but Layla's eyes glanced around and rested on them.

Royal waved and they walked over to them.

Brent felt Layla's eyes on them and when she saw them holding hands, her face became blank. Erik dropped Brent's hand to give Royal dap, and he leaned in to give Layla a hug and peck on her cheek. She waved her hand at Brent and he gave her a head nod.

"Brent was telling me about all the good shit popping because of the article," Erik said. He was excited and that excitement was infectious. Layla's face seemed genuinely happy for Brent.

"All things come together for the greater good. Congratulations, Brent," she said.

"How's the exhibit?" Royal asked.

"Pretty good, but there's one installation that is a rip-off…"

Instead of leaving as they had planned to do, Erik led Royal and Layla to the silhouette piece he railed against. Layla and Royal were disgusted when they saw it, but Erik steered them to cooler work that they had been impressed with earlier. Brent trailed behind them. It didn't take long for them to move through the art and eventually they were all standing on the sidewalk in the midst of the Pride Weekend festivities going on around them.

Brent hoped they would all part ways and he could enjoy Erik with their friends they were meeting for drinks and food, but Erik opened his mouth inviting Layla and Royal along. Instead of having Erik time in their bubble, it became group time with outsiders.

Layla didn't look any happier, especially when Brent held Erik's hand again while they pushed through the crowds on the sidewalk.

Joining their mutuals on the sidewalk patio, Erik made sure to place himself between Layla and Brent. They ordered rounds of Cadillac margaritas and fajitas, and by the time they were all buzzing and stumbling to a nearby club, Brent came to the conclusion that he was happy that their arrangement would be coming to an end. He liked Layla and was grateful for her help in getting him to where he needed to be as a business owner, but it was clear that being around each other with Erik was difficult. They both displayed territorial tendencies with him openly with Brent keeping his arm around Erik's seat as Layla pressed her thigh into his leg and touching his hand every time she made a point in their excited banter at the table with all the others.

Erik seemed to overlook any tension he may have felt between them, and took turns dancing with them in the passable club they piled into. Their friends Craig and Holland had a blast with Royal, and midway through their clubbing, all of them were out on the dance floor. Erik bounced between him and Layla with his moves as bodies pressed them in a tight pocket. As the club's smoke machine churned, Erik passed around some quality weed. Layla smoked a lot and Brent turned down the offer.

As the night wore on, Layla became more touchy-feely with Erik. Brent left the floor when they began grinding on one another. It was too much for him.

Ordering a Long Island Ice Tea at the bar, Brent tried to rein in his emotions. His head throbbed with a tension headache and the sweat on his body made him feel sticky and antsy for a shower.

"That floor is packed," Erik said taking a seat on the stool next to Brent.

He ordered a drink for himself and snuck a sip of Brent's drink.

"You seem okay with it," Brent mumbled.

"W'sup with that tone?"

"This was our day."

"It still is—"

"Not when she's here with us."

"Layla just helped you get you what you wanted—"

"That doesn't matter! The point is, we are on a date. Just you and me—"

"Craig and Holland are here with us too."

"That was a pre-planned get together for food and dancing. Are you bringing her to bed with us tonight too?"

"Wow."

Erik jumped off the seat and paid for his mixed drink.

"I thought you were cool with her," he said.

His eyes were narrow and Brent looked away trying to contain his anger.

"I appreciate what she did for me. I've been open about how we will be together in this situationship—"

"But?"

"Can't you see and even understand why I am so upset? Are you that self-centered?"

Layla sauntered over and Brent felt his blood pressure rise. Her eyes flitted between Erik and Brent.

"I'ma take off. Royal's going to stay," she said.

"How are you getting home?" Erik asked.

"Lyft."

"I'll walk you out," he said.

"Erik, wait up," Brent said.

Layla walked in front of Erik and Brent kept tugging on Erik's shirt to slow him down. Once they made it to the sidewalk outside, Erik hustled Layla to the corner to wait for her ride. Brent reached for Erik's arm and pulled him around to face his fury.

"We were still talking." Brent snapped.

Layla's eyes widened with surprise at the ferocity of his voice.

"I can wait for my ride. You guys can go on back," she said pushing Erik toward him.

"I was going to wait until tomorrow but I'ma tell you both now. Plans have changed for me," Erik said.

Brent searched his eyes and when he glanced at Layla, she looked just as confused by Erik's words.

"What are you talking about?" she said.

Brent heard the distress in her voice.

Erik's eyes were fierce.

"I'm not going back to M.I.T.," he said.

Brent felt his chest get tight.

"I'm taking a year off. I found a job and a place to live. I want to focus on translating my father's journals and take a long mental break from school."

His eyes regarded Brent.

"You're gonna have to deal with me being with her whenever. I love her, Brent."

The shock on Brent's face matched the shock on Layla's face. Her eyes welled up and she threw her arms around his neck.

"Erik," she murmured into his neck, "I love you too."

Brent took an unsteady step back. Erik took his hand and pulled him in close, right next to Layla.  
"I love you too. Both of you. And I'm doing something that I'm not sure about, but I have to see it through. I have to understand my father's words. I have to confront my Uncle. I need you both or else I won't make it. I don't have anyone except for you and her. If y'all can't handle that….let me know now."

Brent closed his eyes. His heart pounded in his chest.

Layla's Lyft arrived.

She wiped her eyes.

"I'll talk to you at a later time, okay? Think about what I said." Erik said.

"Okay," Layla said pulling herself together, "night, Brent."

Brent nodded to her.

Erik gave her a big hug. He caressed her face and said something softly in her ear. Brent watched her close her eyes as a tear ran down her face. Whatever he said made her giggle and she pushed back from him, punching him in his arm.

They watched her leave and Brent felt prickly. There was something special there between them and there was no getting around her in Erik's life.

Their night out finished soon after. They rode home in their own Lyft in silence.

Brent took a shower first in his apartment, and when Erik was done cleaning himself, they sat on the couch letting the tv run on mute.

"When did you decide to do this?" Brent asked.

"I'd been toying with the idea when I first arrived here. The day after I received my father's journals solidified it. I called my advisor at M.I.T. and they figured out a way to give me leave with my scholarship intact."

"You and Layla fell in love that fast?"

"She didn't know how I felt until tonight. I didn't even know she was there with me. Maybe it was always meant to be and we had to be apart to find that out. If you can't…if you don't want to do this Brent, please, tell me. I don't want to fight about it. I wasn't trying to be disrespectful when I had her join us. I just feel like she's a part of me. Just like you. She thinks highly of you. I shouldn't have pushed you two together tonight. I wasn't thinking about your feelings…or hers. I was in my own head tonight."

"It hurt, Erik. I like her, I really do. But I don't want her thrown in my face when I'm not expecting it. I'm grateful for how she hooked me up, but we need some boundaries. Now you're talking love…it's hard sharing you. No matter how I try to work this, it hurts."

Brent pulled his right hand into a fist and pressed it onto his thigh.

"Do you really love me?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

"You've said it before and acted a whole ass with me, Erik—"

Erik's left hand wrapped around the back of Brent's neck and pulled him in close.

"I'm not who I was anymore. Believe me. I love you, Brent. I tried keeping you at a distance. I'm trying to figure so much out and it's hard, man. Fucking hard…"

Brent closed his eyes and rested his head on Erik's shoulder.

His lips were always generous.

Giving.

Brent could fight most things in life, but Erik was his Achille's heel, and his lips froze time and space.

"Don't be mad anymore," Erik whispered as his mouth rested on the space between Brent's neck and shoulder.

His kisses made a warm trail around the other side of his neck.

"…don't be mad…please…"

Erik pushed him back down on the couch and Brent helped him remove his shirt and the cut-off sweatpants he wore. Naked and vulnerable, Brent allowed Erik to kiss him down his throat and rest his tongue around his right nipple, and then his left nipple. The tingles sparked down to his belly where the hurt still lived.

Erik's eyes watched him as he moved further down to his groin where he peppered kisses on Brent's hips and then his thighs. He teased Brent's manhood by dropping smooches on his kneecaps making Brent smile. He sat up and slowly pulled off his t-shirt.

As Erik pulled off his pants, Brent sat up on the couch. Those old fears were coming back. His using seduction to squash Brent's discontent loomed large in his spirit. The power dynamics were always in Erik's control.

But his eyes…

Erik crawled above him, his weight pushing Brent down. He felt Erik's balls rubbing against his, their growing erections pressed together. Erik reached down and held their dicks together, fisting them both. His mouth smothered Brent's, and he gave in to it. He moaned when Erik twisted his fingers around their tips, their pre-cum beading and falling, their dicks growing slick, the friction against each other heightening their pleasure.

Erik pulled back and left the couch.

When he returned, his dick was sheathed with a pre-lubed ultrathin condom.

They kissed once more and their tongues explored each other's mouths while Erik stroked Brent's length. Brent opened his legs and lifted up his thighs. He groaned and his lustful sounds made Erik line up his wide head against his anal opening. The first two inches Erik slid in hit his prostate gland and Brent gasped. Erik knew how to work that spot and took his time with it before going further.

Brent clutched Erik's biceps, accepting more penetration until he could feel Erik's balls gently slapping him. His own dick sat firm against his stomach, his sack riding the rhythm and sliding against Erik's hardness. Brent bit his lower lip as Erik grunted, his fists slammed down on the couch, his focus on plunging that heavy dick deep. Drops of warm salty sweat fell on Brent's chest from Erik's body.  
"Ohh….fuck…right there…right there," Brent cried out.

He reached for his own dick and gripped it tight, watching Erik's length. He twisted the head of his dark length, his pre-cum spilling thicker, making his slightly curved dick glisten. Erik's eyes were fixated on the shiny black bulbous head, his mouth parted and his eyes hooded with intense carnal need.

"Giving you this deep dick, boy," Erik groaned.

Erik leaned down to tongue his mouth. Craven licks and bites to Brent's neck pushed Brent closer to an orgasm.

"Beat that shit, boy…fat dick ready to spit…my balls are tight nigga…"

Fingers sticky with natural lubricant, Brent slapped his brick hard dick against Erik's taut stomach.  
"You wanna wet up my dick, boy?" Erik shouted.

Brent lifted up his neck and fisted himself.

"Ah fuck," Erik grunted shifting his position so that he leaned back.

Brent stroked himself just under the ridge of his thick frenulum. The stimulation he received from Erik's assertive lovemaking and his own hand made Brent's back arch as he shouted Erik's name, spilling cum down his hand in thick stringy rivulets. He felt like it wouldn't stop as he milked his dick.

Erik lost it. He pulled out of Brent and ripped off the condom, stroking his meat until he ejaculated all over Brent's sack, drenching the couch too. Gasping above him, Erik kept beating his meat until the last drop of semen fell from his slit. By then, most of what had been a blinding creamy white had turned into a cool covering of clear fluid.

Erik stretched his back, then dropped down to kiss Brent's mouth, his lips soft and supple with light pressure. The sweat on his body cooled, so Brent reached up to pull Erik's warm body down upon his to capture the heat smoldering there. He held on to him as their hearts beat in tandem.

"Do you really love me, Erik?"

"Never stopped. I was just never good at showing it. Not how you wanted it. I'm just…"

Erik pulled back from Brent's hold. Brent held onto him for dear life.

"You're just what?" Brent asked.

"I'm just trying to find my way through this one day at a time. That's all I can give. A day at a time."

Erik rolled off the couch and took Brent's hand lifting him from his prone position. He followed Erik into his bedroom and they climbed into together. Facing one another, Erik traced his finger around Brent's beard.

Brent saw worry in Erik's eyes. Uncertainty. He ran his hand across Erik's chest before stroking his face.

"That's what love asks of everyone. Taking it one day at a time. Erik…I'm glad you're staying here."

"I am too."

###

Erik found a tiny studio apartment in Richmond. It was the cheapest thing he could afford on the meager salary he was making at a small software company. Both Layla and Brent helped him move in, buying him furniture and groceries to hold him over until his first paycheck.

He stood in his kitchen frying up chicken wings and hushpuppies for them both as payment for helping him. After sharing a meal together, Brent left to meet up with one of his new investors. Layla hung out and helped him hang a few pictures up and try to put together an IKEA bookshelf. They gave up halfway through and smoked a joint on his bed that took up most of the studio.

While high, he made Layla use an egg-shaped vibrator on his bed.

"Lay on your stomach and put it on your clit…yeah, like that…spread your legs," he said.

Sitting on a small ottoman at the edge of the bed, he placed a penis vibrator around his erection that wrapped all around his tip and also touched the root.

"Look back at me girl. Yeah like that…ah shit your pussy is so wet with that thing."

Layla whimpered on the bed as she watched his face. The egg vibrator had a pulse cycle, and Layla rode it until her pussy contracted. Her vulva was so swollen and watching her juicy pink slit open and close rapidly made him shout her name and slap her ass. When her fingers slid down between her legs and spread her pussy lips wider for him, Erik's dick spurt all over the floor with the penis vibrator adding to the intensity. He fucked her in missionary until she was wailing and he nutted all over her face.

They partook of more weed and vibed to music together.

"Your eyes are so red!" she teased.

"Yeah, I'm faded."

He smoked her out until she fell asleep in his bed.

Leaving her to sleep, Erik sat at his tiny kitchen table with a stack of his father's journals and his laptop. Turning on his computer he perused his email. One caught his eye. A video response to his inquiry about finding someone to help him translate Wakandan. He hit the video link and a striking looking woman with short tight curls from the Stanford Linguistics department appeared. He listened to her words about setting up a time to meet and look over the journals, but what drew Erik's eyes were her lips. Especially her bottom lip. He froze her image, then rewound it. Froze it again.

He saw it and his heart thumped a little harder.

She had something in her mouth that his own father had.

A tattoo.

A neon blue tattoo.

Erik lit up another joint and smoked at the table staring at the Professor.

She was Wakandan.

Like his father.

Erik shot off a response to set up a meeting with her. He would have to drive to Stanford with Princess.

Brent returned to his studio from his meeting, and they sat up together watching TV as Layla snored on his bed.

He felt a bit of weight lift from him. Not a lot, but enough to make him feel he was on the right path. Glancing over at Brent and the sleeping Layla, Erik felt empowered. He had people in his corner. People who loved him and supported his quest.

He touched his father's ring hanging on his neck. N'Jobu Udaku's death would not be in vain.

Holding Brent's hand, Erik made plans for his future. Real plans.

At last.


End file.
